


A Sky Full of Stars (Five Times & Once)

by sashach



Series: Five Times & Once [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bucky is a Lawyer, English translation, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Steve is an artist, it's in the epilogue so please proceed with care, you might not like Steve in this story because
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 23:35:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7012891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sashach/pseuds/sashach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which five times Bucky and Steve were together and one time they weren't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Imbrian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imbrian/gifts).
  * A translation of [A Sky Full of Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702123) by [Imbrian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imbrian/pseuds/Imbrian). 



> This is the second last story of this series. Please go the original story and give it a kudo if you like it. Imbrian is awesome for writing this series.
> 
> I am most grateful to [Echo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/menhir/pseuds/menhir) for helping me proofread the story especially when she is busy with her own fic. Go read [Nowhere To Go But Home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6381397/chapters/14613505) if you haven't already.

The first time he kissed him, Steve Rogers felt like his heart had stopped beating. The “him” here was Bucky Barnes.

Well, okay, Bucky was complaining loudly behind Steve his name was actually James Buchanan Barnes. Because they were only three, maybe four, years old when they first met, you couldn’t really blame Steve for changing Buchanan to Bucky since he couldn’t pronounce it.

Bucky Barnes was the most popular boy in the public high school they went to. His eyes were innocent and teasing when he smiled. Girls found they couldn’t stop staring at him and guys’ heartbeats accelerated when he was near. Not only did he have the highest ever SAT scores in this Brooklyn community high school, he was also a participant on the National Team for the fifty meter rifle prone event. It was inevitable that he’d become the heartthrob of this community high school.

But that wasn’t fair, thought Steve, because Bucky’s father was a vet who now worked in private security. If Steve’s father had also been in the business, he might have had the opportunity to shoot a rifle or pull a trigger or something along those lines. He'd even told Bucky his thoughts after Bucky fished him out of a locker. But the brunet wasn’t listening to Steve because he was busy wiping iodine and Benedict’s reagent off of Steve’s face with his sleeves. 

Bucky smiled warily. “So, the last class you were in was science?”

Steve struggled as usual. He didn’t want Bucky to take care of him like that, but Bucky never gave up even though he struggled and complained about it.

Bucky had applied to a college quite far away. Steve didn’t understand why Bucky applied for that college in the first place. He knew it was a good school, but this was New York. Any college was a good college as long as it was in New York.

Steve and Bucky weren't in the same grade, which was why they didn’t have classes together. But they were joined at the hip the rest of the time. Steve even sat next to Bucky and watched him during rifle practice.

But Steve hadn’t known Bucky had applied for UCLA until he saw someone congratulating Bucky in the hall. They had even asked Bucky to take a road trip with them before college started that fall. It was Laura Kim, probably the most intelligent girl in school. She was of Korean descent.

Laura had invited Bucky to travel with her. The two of them could go in the same car! She wanted Bucky to sit with her in a Ford (god knows how many owners it’d been through) that had been bought with the money Laura’s parents had made from their little store—in addition to money from the protection racket her gangster brother had collected—and set off for UCLA!

Steve’s concern was “the two of them.” Of course he was worried about that crappy Ford, but he was more worried about Laura getting close to Bucky!

Thank goodness Bucky had rejected her. Doubtless because of Laura’s brother. Bucky held Laura’s hands affectionately and momentarily stared at her nails, which were bitten down to the quick, before he lifted his head and explained in an apologetic tone, “Listen, Laura, to be honest, I don’t think the car could make it to New Jersey.”

Well, even if Bucky hadn’t said that, Laura’s brother, David Kim, wouldn’t do anything to Bucky anyway. Steve was positive about that because David and Steve were classmates in English in junior year. It was David’s fifth or sixth time through junior year. The first couple of times were interrupted by jail time, and once or twice he’d gone into hiding in other states. Anyway, David Kim sat next to Steve in English and he had told him once, “Your friend, he’s a great guy.”

Steve didn’t have to ask him which friend was he talking about. He only had one friend.

What David knew was of no importance, but Steve still nodded to express his approval of David’s judgement.

What David didn’t know was what Bucky did outside school. Those were the things that made Bucky the most wonderful person in Steve’s world.

The first thing was probably the fact that Bucky knew how to cook. At first, Bucky only cooked for his siblings. Mr. and Mrs. Barnes were busy managing their private security company, so Bucky had learned how to cook at the age of twelve, and sometimes he would invite Steve, who lived in the building next to theirs, to come over to have dinner with them. When dinner was ready, Bucky would get one of his siblings to pick a little pebble from the fish tank in their living room and throw it at Steve’s window. There was a teeny tiny alley between their buildings, so small that an adult had to turn sideways to walk through the alley, which was why the children could throw a pebble so easily.

Sometimes Bucky would join his siblings in throwing the pebble, and of course Bucky had good aim. One time, Bucky threw a pebble just when Steve opened the window and it hit him right between the eyebrows. Bucky claimed it was an accident because Steve had opened the window earlier than usual, but Steve knew that jubilant smirk on Bucky’s face. He definitely did it on purpose.

The second thing that made Bucky wonderful was the fact that he was actually quite good at housekeeping.

Sometimes when Steve returned from the library, he would find Bucky, who had come to take him to rifle practice, already in his apartment, picking up the dirty clothes and socks from the floor, sorting them out for washing. While the washing machine was working, Bucky would vacuum the apartment thoroughly. Good thing the Rogers’ apartment wasn’t very big. It had one bathroom and one bedroom that belonged to Mrs. Rogers. Next to the bathroom was the countertop, and next to the countertop was the washing machine. Along the side of the washing machine was the window which the Barnes’ kids liked to attack, and under the window was Steve’s bookshelf. It was a small, low row of books, on which were some pillows. That was Steve’s bed. Sometimes Steve would sleep on the couch in front of the TV, especially when the weather was cold.

Bucky was efficient at vacuuming. When there was sufficient time, he would sterilize the entire apartment with a mop, particularly at the change of seasons. Bucky would disinfect every day. Once, Bucky had gone away for training and when he returned, he headed to the Rogers’ straightaway to clean the apartment. Mrs. Rogers had just gotten back from work and when she saw him, she hugged Bucky tightly and kissed him repeatedly to express her affection for the boy. Bucky even cleaned the bathroom. If Bucky was going to spend the night at the Rogers’, he would scrub the toilet bowl clean before taking his shower, clear away the expired medications in the medicine cabinet, and write a list to remind Mrs. Rogers, who was a nurse, what medications needed to be replenished.

It was probably Steve’s fault Bucky had to clean their apartment. Steve had always been sick when he was a kid, and a sickly kid couldn’t go out and play, so Bucky would come to his apartment and play with him. But a patient was no fun to play with, and eventually the game that Bucky played was the game of taking care of the patient. All Steve had to do was lay down on the couch while Bucky busied himself in the apartment, coming over to tend to him every once in a while.

The Barneses said the game was as stupid as a pig, or the idea of a pig.

This stupid as a pig game was Steve’s idea. No one would believe that he made the suggestion because he felt guilty for not being able to play with Bucky.

Years later, Lydia, Bucky’s younger sister, had once come over to spend the night in Steve and Bucky’s apartment when she was in the area. She was drunk. And during her drunk confession she bawled out at Steve, reproaching him for his patient game, which had been stringing Bucky along.

Lydia’s words went like this: “Fucking Rogers! You had your eyes on Bucky since you were a kid. He was so handsome and so intelligent and so many women were chasing after him and what happened? Rogers turned him into a mess, a drunk mess who’d cling to me and cry and tell me what he wanted to do most was to stay with Rogers and take care of him. He can’t not love Rogers. Damn you, Rogers! You wanted him to take care of you for the rest of your life, that’s why you suggested that stupid patient game. Patient game my ass, Rogers! Patient. My. Ass!”

So, anyway, Bucky had most likely started cleaning the Rogers’ apartment on a regular basis in the last year of junior high or the first year of senior high. Throughout his years growing up, Steve had never asked for Mr. and Mrs. Barnes’ opinion on that until one day when the couple came to visit them. The older couple were not drunk, of course, but they had witnessed how Bucky busied himself with taking care of the baby and cleaning the apartment, while Steve just sat in the living room, watching an NBA game with them. It was then that Mr. Barnes blew his top. “My son has been cleaning up after you since he was fifteen, Rogers, and now he’s thirty-five. You better not let him cry a single tear for the rest of his life.” Then Mr. Barnes stood up and walked into the bedroom and took the baby from Bucky, thus making the brunet follow him into the living room to sit with him and Mrs. Barnes. “Tell me, have you ever watched an NBA telecast with me?”

“It’s not like watching a game with me is anything amusing.” Bucky smiled and sat down next to his father, but all his attention was on the baby. Once the baby was asleep, Bucky stretched out his hands to take over from his father, but found his hands empty. He could only watch his father walk across the living room toward Steve. The game was a deadlock and the blond was watching it while standing. Displeased, Mr. Barnes asked Steve to take care of the sleeping baby situation and a confused Steve took the soft and squishy baby, at a loss for what to do. In the end, Bucky carried the baby back to the bedroom.

Yes, Bucky was an expert in cooking and housekeeping; but most important was the fact that Bucky loved Steve.

This happened at a very early stage, but Steve didn’t fully comprehend until much later. Steve loved Bucky, too; he knew he loved Bucky probably on the day he knew how to spell Bucky’s name. But Steve didn’t believe Bucky would love him back. Steve thought Bucky had taken looking after him as an obligation, just like one of those supportive kids seen on the news: a kid had his legs amputated and his friends wheeled him to school up until the day he went to college. Steve had assumed Bucky was a good friend like that. He never doubted Bucky’s friendship, he just never thought Bucky would love him the same way he loved Bucky.

Bucky’s height reached five foot nine when he was seventeen. The girls in school, and most likely the girls from high schools all around the neighborhood, loved him.

There was one time Bucky had won a medal at a youth sports competition and a girl from the school paper came to interview him. Next thing he knew, the girl was all over him. Literally. Bucky had quite a scare, but he still managed to calmly get her off of him.

“She’s hot, Barnes. What’s wrong with you?” asked Toby Hemingway, captain of the school’s hockey team, mockingly.

“I didn’t have condoms with me,” replied Bucky, balancing politeness and cockiness when he talked to his buddies.

Steve was next to them like an invisible man while the conversation was going on. People like Hemingway couldn’t wait to shove Steve into the nearest closet if Bucky wasn’t around. Every time Bucky asked Steve who did it, but Steve never told. He knew why these people bullied him. Whether it was Hemingway or Gina McCartney, the cheerleader. They terrorized him because he, Steve Rogers, had taken the position of Bucky Barnes’ best friend, and he wasn’t letting go of it.

For three consecutive years, Bucky never denied anyone who wanted him to sign their yearbooks. However, he would also make them turn to the page where Steve’s picture was and he’d write down next to the picture: I’m Bucky Barnes’ best friend.

Later, much, much later, some time when their second child Maximilian was born, another high school buddy of Bucky’s, Jarvis, told Steve that Bucky had once confessed to him, unintentionally, his feelings for Steve. Hence only in Javis’ yearbook could one see what Bucky had written down next to Steve’s picture: Bucky Barnes’ only love.

But Steve had to wait until the baptism of their third child Claudia before Jarvis, who had then become Steve’s business partner, gave him the yearbook as Christmas present. God knew where the man, who now lived like a nomad, found it in the first place.

Steve cut out his picture and the words next to it and put the piece of paper in an acrylic case and made it into a transparent cube. He put it next to Bucky when he was asleep so that the brunet would find it when he woke up. And he did. Steve first heard Bucky’s hearty laughter, and the next second Bucky was climbing up his lap and they had one hell of a sexy morning.

Oh, we’re off topic.

Bucky first kissed Steve the night Bucky graduated from high school. Bucky looked good in his blue robe and he had a beautiful smile. The whole school probably wanted to take a picture with him. Steve didn’t realize he was watching like a bystander until Mrs. Barnes reminded him that he hadn’t taken a picture with Bucky.

“James, put your arm around Steve! You call this taking a picture together when the two of you are standing so far away from each other?”

They were standing too far away because they’d had a fight that morning. Steve didn’t understand why fucking James Buchanan Barnes had to go across the country to UCLA when he’d received admittance and a full scholarship from NYU. There was nothing wrong with UCLA except it wasn’t in New York.

After listening to Steve’s absurd conclusion that “there’s nothing wrong with UCLA except it’s not in New York,” Bucky looked at Steve dolefully.

Bucky’d had that doleful look every now and then since the beginning of his senior year. Once, after Bucky had put Steve’s dirty laundry into the laundry basket, he just turned the basket upside down over Steve’s head, and he had that same expression. Steve heard very clearly Bucky’s impassive voice. “No wonder people like doing that, you punk.”

That incident was so out of the blue that Steve didn’t know why Bucky was angry at all. Later, when Steve recalled the incident, he asked Bucky why he’d dumped the clothes on him. Bucky thought for quite a while and said it was probably because the results of the SAT simulation test the day before weren’t what he’d expected and he was unhappy.

Maybe. But whether it was due to a SAT simulation test or the real SAT, Bucky had never done badly. Ever.

Anyway, on the morning of Bucky’s commencement ceremony, Bucky had glared at Steve with that same doleful expression. “Rogers, if you want me to go to NYU, then you better give me a reason that’s better than because it’s in New York.”

Bucky was being absurd, Steve had thought to himself that morning. But when Mr. Barnes asked him why he wasn’t in the car getting ready to attend the ceremony with them, he still squeezed himself into the backseat, and then, through the wall of the other three young Barneses, sneaked a look at Bucky. He was sitting on the other side, staring out the car window.

There was another occasion in which Bucky had also looked at him with that doleful expression combined with a dash of anger. Steve had asked Evie, full name Evelyn Jones, a girl who was in the same grade with Bucky, and had successfully applied for SVA, to take a look at his portfolio for his application to SVA. He had stayed at school until eight or nine in the evening and he’d forgotten to let Bucky know, so it wasn’t entirely Bucky’s fault. Steve explained to Bucky sincerely, “Evie said she was suddenly available today. She said if I had my portfolio with me, she could take a look at them. I forgot to tell you. And then we made a lot of changes. That’s why I didn’t go look for you at the range—”

“Guess what, Rogers?” a doleful Bucky cut him off with bitter coolness in his tone. “You don’t have to come find me at the range anymore. We’re old enough, we can’t have people calling us Siamese twins anyway. You just go ahead and prepare your portfolio that you’ll only need, what? Seven or eight months later? To apply for a college in New York next year.”

“Have you seen any Siamese twins where one was five foot two and the other was five foot nine, Bucky? Nobody calls us that anymore!”

His reply was the loud crash of the metal door of the Barnes’ apartment, the sound of locks clicking into place, and Bucky’s voice telling his siblings not to open the door for Steve.

Not to be outdone, Steve yelled back, “There’s no need to open the door, Barnes. You should pack your stuff now and get the hell to California!”

Steve later heard from Emily what had happened to Bucky behind the door after he yelled at him.

Emily was Bucky’s youngest sister. Once, she was having a date with her boyfriend near SVA and made a stopover at the cafe where Steve was working. She had brought him some books on design, which Bucky had sent from UCLA. Steve had been participating in so many exhibitions back then he was practically living in the campus exhibition hall, so he didn’t have time to get the books from the Barneses. Emily was compelled to bring him the books under Bucky’s long distance supervision. Somehow during their conversation the topic was diverted to how much Bucky hated it when his family asked him to pack early and get ready to go back to the campus. And Steve remembered that, too. Every time Bucky had to go back to California, he was always clinging onto Steve and would only start looking for his clothes and suitcase one minute before he had to leave.

“You wanted him to pack his stuff immediately and get the hell to California, remember?” Calm and composed, Emily tucked a strand of her hair, the same brown color like Bucky’s, behind her ear. “He tore the admission letter from UCLA into pieces. Since that day, he hates anyone who tells him to pack his stuff.”

Steve’s eyes widened. The hand that was pouring her coffee spilled some on the table.

“Afterwards mum taped it back together. Bucky had torn it apart brutally, but my mum doesn’t give up easily. She used up an entire roll of tape to tape the pieces together. My dad went further. He called UCLA and told them the letter had been eaten by a neighbor’s dog and asked them to send another. In fact, my dad asked for five copies.” Emily smirked wickedly as she watched Steve clean the table. “My mum hated you back then, Rogers. You made Bucky tear up his ticket to a bright future. My mum called you ‘that Rogers’ for a long time.”

He didn’t know that. He truly didn’t. After that, when he was finally done with his exhibition, Steve bought a ticket to California to look for Bucky and asked him about the incident. Bucky only laughed and said that Emily had deceived him, and that Mrs. Barnes loved Steve very much, and the stupid things that Steve had said were incomparable to UCLA, his dream college.

But that evening when they were in bed, Steve asked the same question again. This time Bucky pushed Steve’s chest angrily and told Steve he shouldn’t demand an answer while he was still inside Bucky. He was also going to sew Emily’s lips up so that she would keep her mouth shut.

Come to think of it, Steve realized that doleful look was probably the expression Bucky had when he was sad.

Steve was off topic again. Yeah, the first time Bucky kissed him? His heart almost stopped.

It happened while they were playing truth or dare.

They had taken a picture together at the commencement ceremony, the two of them standing far, far away from each other. Bucky’s friends had invited him to a bar, and Steve went with them. Bucky didn’t chase him away. Bucky never dismissed him from such occasions.

Bucky’s friends were the same bunch of people who treated Steve as though he was as transparent as thin air. For some reason they managed to buy quite a lot of beer and they were playing truth or dare. Jarvis was also there, and Jarvis admitted afterwards that he had tampered with the game to make Steve kiss Bucky. Everyone there went mad because the instruction could only be used once, and everyone, most likely even Hemingway, wanted Bucky to kiss them.

Steve remembered it was McCartney who fired the first shot. “What? Rogers is also in this game?”

Then it was Morton, Kate Morton, who complained, “Shouldn’t the lots be separated into boys, and girls?”

Morton and McCartney were later invited by Steve to be their bridesmaids at the wedding. He felt a wave of indescribable satisfaction when he saw them sitting in Central Park in those peach-colored, puffy bridesmaid dresses. But nothing beat having Toby Hemingway sitting at the door, collecting wedding gifts for them.

Okay, enough digression. Anyway, the instruction that Jarvis had drawn was for Rogers to kiss Barnes.

Bucky wondered if Jarvis had made that up.

Bucky was sitting in the farthest seat of the U-shaped sofa in the bar, and Steve wasn’t even sitting on that sofa. Jarvis gave him a push and asked him to walk across the wall of people to get to Bucky; but when Steve asked the girls to let him through, several of them put out their legs instead in attempt to make him trip and fall.

As usual, Bucky couldn’t sit by and do nothing. He reacted quickly. “It’s late. I think Rogers and I should go.”

Steve didn’t need Bucky to save his ass. From the next day onward Bucky wouldn’t be in school to save him anymore. Steve had to rely on himself, and wasn’t that what he’d always wanted? To not let Bucky worry about him anymore? If he couldn’t even fight these petty bullies, how was he going to face their minions?

Did he want Bucky to go to UCLA and still worry whether or not he had a table in the cafeteria during lunch time?

And just like that, Steve simply climbed on the table and strode over the mess of glasses and bottles on the table and put a leg right next to McCartney who was all over Bucky. He’d probably stepped on her white dress on purpose, although he did apologize immediately. And then he smelled the scent on Bucky, it was a combination of cologne and beer, better than any fragrance.

Steve cupped Bucky’s cheeks with his hands and saw that Bucky was smiling. He loved Bucky’s smile, so he lowered his head and kissed Bucky clumsily. The moment their lips were pressed together, Steve felt his heart almost stop. The next second he was pushed aside by McCartney, with the implication of “you’ve kissed enough.” McCartney argued that they should draw lots again when Bucky stood up and pulled up Steve, who had fallen and was sitting on the table.

“It’s really late. I don’t want Mrs. Rogers to worry.” Politely, Bucky leaned down to kiss a couple of the girls sitting around him. “We’ll go to the beach one of these days, okay?”

Without a hitch, Bucky left the bar with Steve. The Barneses had a no drinking rule, so Bucky insisted on taking a shower at Steve’s place and spending the night there. Bucky hadn’t had a sleepover at the Rogers since the incident with Evie. He made a beeline to the bathroom when he stepped inside the apartment. He was wearing some old clothes he’d left at the Rogers’ when he came out from the bathroom, but Steve couldn’t help but wonder if there was something different about him. Eventually, after staring at Bucky for a long moment, Steve realized that the brunet’s face was very, very red. It wasn’t that obvious initially because the lighting at the bar and the streetlights weren’t as bright as the ones in the apartment. It seemed like Bucky’d had a lot to drink.

“Is your ma working graveyard?”

Mrs. Rogers had left a message on the coffee table, reminding Steve to wash the dishes. It was signed at 8:00 p.m. Steve was getting ready to do the dishes when Bucky saw the note. Usually Bucky would come over and help Steve, but today he sank himself in the couch and lounged lazily, long limbs dangling, looking very handsome.

The set of clothes Bucky was wearing were probably the ones he had worn when he was fifteen or sixteen. The already not-so-long shirt looked even shorter now. On the whole, Bucky was more on the lean side, and his arms were strong and muscular from rifle practice, giving him an attractive profile. Steve used to draw Bucky to practice sketching when he was younger, but nowadays he was working with other media and rarely drew Bucky. Steve should draw him before he left for Los Angeles.

“Jerk, are you just gonna sit there?”

Steve thought he was a moron when he recalled that evening. Who on earth would ask someone to do the dishes for them within an hour of kissing them?

But his Bucky was the best person in the world. His Bucky didn’t mind at all. Though slow in his stride, Bucky conceded to Steve’s wishes and walked to the sink and helped him dry the clean dishes.

Then it was Steve’s turn to shower. He noticed that Bucky had cleaned the bathroom. If Bucky hadn't scrubbed it, Steve probably would have forgotten that one of the tiles was actually teal in color, just like Bucky’s eyes. As he thought about Bucky’s smiling eyes before the kiss, Steve couldn’t help but discreetly masturbate in the bathroom before taking his shower. He was confused when he saw the loosened shower head. It took him a while to turn it tight so that it wouldn’t leak.

When he came out of the bathroom, Bucky was still sitting on the couch. Steve decided to take the shelves. He walked to the door and turned off the lights, and almost immediately Bucky called his name. “Steve.”

Steve had wondered then how rare it was Bucky didn’t call him Rogers. After exchanging their names at four, Bucky had always called him Steve until they were twelve. That was when Steve started to make Bucky mad. He worried about Steve all the time and so the blond had become Rogers instead. Now that he was seventeen, Bucky was back to calling him Steve again?

“Can you come over?”

Even though he was baffled, Steve walked to Bucky and, for once, he was able to look down at his best friend from a higher position. In the dim light Steve could see Bucky’s blurry silhouette, but Steve was always able to conjure up every single detail of that face when he closed his eyes. Bucky was never gone in his life, however bright or dark it was.

Until UCLA.

Steve Rogers never cussed, but he’d said the “F” word about UCLA several times.

Suddenly, Bucky shifted forward and embraced him. It had been a long time since they last hugged and Steve froze for a moment before ruffling Bucky’s kitten soft hair. He cleared his throat and said with a raspy voice, “Congrats on your graduation.”

“I have a gift for you before I leave for California,” said Bucky. “Can you sit down?”

Steve nodded. Then, worried it was too dark for Bucky to see, he added, “Sure, where should I sit? Next to you?”

“On the table.”

The table? Steve arched an eyebrow, but sat on the table obediently as Bucky instructed. He heard the movement of clothes once he settled himself on the table. Bucky sat down on the floor between his legs and reached out to put his hands on the waistband of Steve’s shorts. Before Steve could ask Bucky what was going on, the brunet had beat him to it and pulled down his shorts and took out his cock—

“Bucky—!”

Steve had to admit the sensation surpassed using his own hands. Bucky’s mouth was hot and wet, and when Bucky moaned Steve pushed his hips forward involuntarily to send his erection deeper into Bucky’s throat. Bucky’s breathing was a little burdened, but his mouth didn’t stop as he continued to suck Steve keenly.

“Bucky…” New to this kind of stimulation, Steve tried to remind himself to breathe, but he only wanted to follow his instincts to rock himself so he could penetrate deeper. “Oh god, I could—” But before he could finish the sentence, his hands were pressing down on Bucky’s head so that the brunet could swallow more. Steve had no idea how long the process took, he only remembered the warmth and tightness of Bucky’s mouth, and then his brain went blank. He recalled vaguely that he should pull out, but he didn’t want to lose the sensation of being sucked while being encompassed.

He chose to push forcefully into Bucky’s mouth, then he heard the burst of a violent cough.

What the hell had he done? “—Bucky? Are you okay?” Ignoring his shorts down around his legs, Steve pulled up the shorts and walked to the door to turn on the lights.

He saw Bucky sitting on the floor, coughing hard. The corners of his lips and his collar were stained with white, murky fluids. Bucky’s eyes were red and he was trying to cough out the fluids he’d choked on.

Seeing Bucky’s current state, Steve’s cock went inadvertently half hard again.

However, he pulled up his shorts and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and came back to Bucky with a handful of tissues.

Bucky took the glass obediently and drank a mouthful of water. He took the tissues and wiped his lips. Meanwhile, Steve stooped down and cleaned Bucky’s collar and cheeks with the tissues. He gazed into Bucky’s eyes. They were glassy from all the coughing, but they still looked at Steve worriedly.

That expression. Steve abandoned the tissues and leaned forward and kissed Bucky hungrily. It was a kiss made for TV. Electric and intense. A declaration of love. Bucky’s tongue danced in Steve’s mouth, exploring, found Steve’s, and they entangled together. Steve felt his heartbeat accelerating. He liked that feeling, the feeling that Bucky needed him.

When they ended the kiss, Steve looked at Bucky. He was eager to say something. “Bucky, I…” I what? Steve blushed at the thought of what he was going to say. I’m sorry I came in your mouth? I’d pull out first if I had a second chance?

That was stupid. Steve growled irritably.

Just then Bucky got up from the floor and walked to the kitchen counter. When he came back, he threw Steve a bottle of olive oil they'd used for making salad. Once, when Bucky was about fifteen, Bucky had made salad for Steve. The situation was similar to the one they were in now: Bucky was in senior high, and Steve was still in eighth grade. It was Independence Day that day, and also Steve’s birthday.

Bucky pushed Steve backward into the couch and straddled Steve’s lap, his knees on either side of Steve's hips. Then Bucky placed his hands on his own waist and pulled down the two articles of clothing covering his lower body.

Steve forgot how to breathe as it happened. When Bucky started to take off his pants, Steve had difficulty calming his breathing. The brunet was silent the whole time, and Steve could only watch him take the bottle of olive oil from him and pour some of the golden liquid into his own palm. Lips pursed, Bucky hesitated for a moment.

Steve only remembered his own careful breathing, measured and deliberate, while he gazed at Bucky’s stomach. Bucky had beautiful 4-pack abs, the contour of his legs was defined, and his ass—Steve swallowed thickly—Bucky’s ass looked tight and lean from the side, which was why he looked good in any pants. As for the pink arousal…

“Steve.” With difficulty, Bucky called to Steve in a hushed voice. “Give me your hand.”

He would gladly give Bucky anything. Steve shifted his weight backward and gave Bucky both his hands.

Bucky positioned his knees on both sides and lowered himself slowly, sitting on Steve’s thigh. Bucky supported most of his own weight because Steve could barely feel him. At least not the weight of a boy who was five foot nine. Bucky poured the olive oil in his palm into Steve’s, and rubbed the rest of the oil in between Steve’s fingers. The blond’s left hand was now slicked with oil. Bucky studied Steve’s hand and pursed his lips again. He pulled Steve’s left hand around his waist to the cleft between his cheeks.

“I’ve just washed it clean.” Bucky paused. “I’ve not eaten anything since this afternoon. It should be clean; but I had some alcohol, so it’s probably gonna be a little warm. You,” Bucky hesitated again. “Can push your finger inside together with the oil.”

And Steve did what he was told. It wasn’t quite effortless at first, but when the oil flowed along the channel into Bucky, the resistance eased for his finger to enter. Tentatively, Steve tried to push his oil-slicked finger further inside and he saw Bucky’s face turn redder.

“Curl your finger.” Bucky leaned forward and lifted his body so that Steve’s hand didn’t have to stretch too far. Steve was shrouded in the shadow of Bucky’s upper body, and Bucky’s old sweatshirt lifted up slightly right in front of his eyes. Steve could almost see Bucky’s nipples and he decided that he should kiss Bucky’s body and so he did. Delicately, he started pressing kisses on the top row of Bucky’s ribs.

Bucky laughed. Steve heard the deep and low laughter, like vibrations from the thoracic cavity.

“It tickles,” sighed Bucky. “More fingers, please? Try to stretch—”

Eventually, Steve put three fingers to work stretching Bucky. Bucky sobbed at times, and Steve was afraid he was hurting him. It was only when they’d begun to live together that Steve finally plucked up the courage to ask Bucky whether or not the whole thing was comfortable for him. From the brunet’s expression, it was evident he didn’t want to tell him, but he still gave a simple and straightforward answer.

“Of course it was comfortable. Why do you think I keep pestering you?”

It must have had been painful for Bucky when he lowered himself down to take Steve in because his initially erect length went soft abruptly.

But Bucky continued slowly and told Steve to push himself upward. Steve tried a couple of times and decided to stop when he saw Bucky biting his lip, trying to tolerate the burn. Instead, Steve’s fingers lingered around Bucky’s tight entrance and began to stroke the area tenderly. The brunet cracked his eyes open to look at him, as if he was worried about him. Bucky was always worried about him.

“It feels real good inside,” Steve decided to tell Bucky honestly. “Even better than inside your mouth.”

Bucky curled his lips and smiled. Rather than supporting himself on the couch, Bucky’s slender hands went around Steve’s neck and encircled the blond. With the dip of his head, he kissed Steve. Just a kiss and the faint tightening of Bucky’s hole almost made Steve come. His Bucky… Steve sighed sweetly.

When the discomfort subsided, Bucky began to sway his hips, and it didn’t take long before Steve came inside him. Bucky clung onto Steve, breathless, for at least five minutes.

“Bucky?”

Hearing Steve’s voice, Bucky was suddenly awakened from some kind of dream. He lifted his legs and removed himself from Steve. The blond’s softened length slipped out of him. Bucky gazed at him wistfully before he bent down to pick up his own pants and put them on.

“…Bucky?” Bucky looked cheerless. Had he hurt him?

Bucky stopped in his tracks when Steve called him. He turned around and reminded Steve gently, “Promise me, Steve, next time find a woman to do this with. Steve… your children will be very beautiful.”

Why was Bucky talking about children? Steve had never thought about it, but the first sentence was enough to piss him off. “What do you mean I should find a woman? Bucky, who do you think would like me other than you?”

Bucky walked toward him and planted a kiss on his cheek. Then he opened the door and left.

That was the memory of their first time together. Steve had always wanted to know why Bucky was so sad. Was it because he'd been really bad? Bucky refused to answer the question several times, and if Bucky wanted to keep something a secret, no one could pry it from him. It was after a long, long time that Steve finally understood that Bucky didn’t want him to lose the opportunity of having his own family; he didn’t want Steve to accept Bucky’s love simply because he didn’t have any other choices. But Steve had never thought of anyone else. He only ever wanted Bucky.

Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.

 

X

 

Bucky set off for California the next morning. There was no news from him that summer.

Without warning, and quite bafflingly, Steve’s growth spurt began during summer vacation. Mrs. Rogers wasn’t surprised at all. She told Steve laughingly that she herself and her long-dead husband were taller than average, so of course Steve would grow tall.

In the first month after Bucky’s departure, Steve’s height stretched to five foot seven. The difference in height came with oddly serious growing pains and gave his already weak body a fever for several days. As time went by, he would grow another inch or so every now and then, and by the time fall rolled by, he was nearly five foot ten. His mother advised him to exercise to reduce the torture of his growing pains, so he started running. In the past, Steve couldn’t even run a mile without tiring himself; but after training he could easily run three or four laps around their community.

He also started boxing, but without sparring so he wouldn’t hurt his hands. He trained with a coach and focused on punching a sand bag.

One day, out of the blue, he found a couple of girls from the lower grades waiting for him outside the school. One of them asked him if he wanted to date her.

He rejected her without thinking.

Next thing he knew, he became the most popular guy in school. No one shoved him into lockers anymore. He did, however, find quite a few presents in his own locker.

One day, Steve saw Hemingway on the streets. The guy took one look at him and just walked past. It was Steve who called out for Hemingway. 

In a quivering voice, the completely terrified man double checked Steve's identity. “Rogers?”

“Yeah. I thought you went to USC?” Baffled, Steve looked at Hemingway, wondering why he was trembling as though he was ready to bolt. “Why did you come back?”

“It’s vacation.” Hemingway took a step back to separate himself from Steve. “Bucky didn’t come back?”

Steve realized suddenly that it was already end of the year, and college students with a shorter semester than high school students had mostly returned.

After that, Steve began to bump into some of Bucky’s friends near the school, one after another, but no sign of Bucky. Each time he saw Mrs. Barnes on the streets, he would ask her how things were with Bucky, and Mrs. Barnes was genuinely surprised that Bucky hadn't called Steve. But from that particular day onward, as though it was a conspiracy, the Barneses began to give him the same set of answers to shut him up.

He’s busy. He’s working. Maybe another two days, another three days, maybe a week later.

By the time the New Year came, Bucky still hadn’t returned to the East Coast. They told Steve that he’d spent Christmas at his grandmother’s in San Francisco.

Then it was Easter, and Bucky said he was going to stay on campus to finish a report. And finally, one day, Steve decided he’d had enough. His calls went unanswered, his messages weren’t returned; so when he saw Lydia on the streets, he took her cell phone and made a call to Bucky. He froze when the phone was picked up.

“Lydia? Your brother told you to study hard and not to disturb him. He’s still hungover.”

It was a girl’s voice, a little husky with some accent. And Steve recognized the owner of that voice. It was Natasha Romanoff. Bucky knew her from participating in the International Championship. She was on the Russian team when she was younger and she'd known Bucky for a very long time. She’d become an American citizen at the age of fifteen and had even stayed with the Barneses when she came to New York from DC.

“Romanoff?”

The other side of the phone went quiet, albeit with the sound of breathing. Then the call was cut off.

Everything had become crystal clear.

Why Bucky went to UCLA, why he didn’t return to Brooklyn. Steve threw the phone back to a breathless Lydia, who'd managed to catch up with him. “So has it been a long time? Romanoff and Bucky?”

Lydia bit her lip. A habit so similar to Bucky’s.

“You can tell me. I won’t get mad.” Bucky told Lydia everything, and Steve didn’t know if he'd told her what happened the night before Bucky left for college. “Just don’t treat me like a fool. I wouldn’t have bothered you guys to ask about Bucky if you'd told me earlier. And since he’s doing really good, I can accept the truth.”

“Rogers!” Lydia screamed at him as if she’d had enough. “You’re a fool!”

Steve tilted his head and looked at the girl who was trembling with anger, then he turned his head and gazed at the streets and the corners that he and Bucky used to walk through together. “You’re right. I’m a fool.”

It was a present, Bucky had said so himself, a present for Steve the shorty. God knew how long it would take for Steve to lose his virginity if Bucky didn’t do it, huh?

Bucky wanted him to be with a woman. Did he mean that Steve should learn to be like him and Romanoff?

Sorry, Bucky, he really couldn’t do it.

What Steve remembered of those days back then was this: the goodness of Bucky and the kindness of Bucky. He also remembered Bucky’s cruelty and Bucky’s departure. Steve might have lost Bucky, but good things still happened in school. For instance, the younger McCartney, Julia, who was also the new captain of the cheerleaders, had asked him to be the student tutor. They were close, and he was always spending time with her in school. He even went to the prom, which he and Bucky had never been to, and had been chosen homecoming king. He'd kissed Julia’s cheek politely; but before he graduated, he told her that she deserved someone better.

Steve remembered quite a lot of his memories with Julia, but he’d never told Bucky about her. He did, however, suspect Lydia, Julia’s BFF, must have told Bucky about her, more or less. Later, very much later—fine, actually it was yesterday—Steve had been holding Claudia in his arms, waiting outside Dean & Deluca for Bucky to get milk, and Julia had come out of the Coach opposite the supermarket. Steve had nowhere to run, so he smiled and said hi and kissed her cheek out of courtesy.

And then Bucky came out and kissed her cheek, too. He even carried Claudia, accepting Julia’s praises on how beautiful Claudia was, how much she looked like Bucky, and then she asked the question anyone would ask in a similar social situation.

“What’s her name?”

“Claudia Sarah Barnes.”

Steve hadn't heard wrong. He was positive Bucky left out the Rogers intentionally. Fine. As long as Bucky was happy; as long as he got to hold Bucky tightly in his arms every day. Maximilian and Elliot could take Barnes as their only last name. He didn’t care, those were just trivial details.

Julia probably got the hint that the child didn't have Rogers in her last name, so she kissed Bucky’s cheek one more time amiably, but chose to pat Steve’s hand when she turned to go.

“Are you mad, sweetheart?”

“Why? Did you forget to tell me something that would make me mad?”

Bucky turned and grinned at Steve. The sun sprinkled golden flecks on the brunet, and Steve, while feeling the world was wonderful, also felt an inkling hint of coolness.

After graduating from high school, Steve went to SVA as he'd wished and moved to Manhattan after graduation. Some international students had also reported early to get adapted to the new environment, and Steve quickly found himself new friends and even a new roommate to share an apartment with. After summer vacation, he cut down his part-time jobs from four to two. He kept the job at the cafe, where he was in charge of closing and cleaning. The other one was with an advertising agency that gave him the opportunity to network in the industry; but his workload had also increased respectively, and at times Steve would find it too much to take.

But with the advancement of his artistic skills, he was lucky to get recognition from the agency. Many people were happy to teach him new methods, and even suggested that by sophomore year, he should get a recommendation letter from the agency and take up small budget projects from smaller studios. They reminded him that when he'd made enough money, he would have more time to make his own creations, instead of drawing pictures and diagrams for other companies.

And so, for the entire freshman year, Steve kept himself busy and worked hard, so hard that he fell asleep immediately when he got back to his rental apartment every day. But sometimes, in the middle of the night, he would wake up and think of Bucky and break his own heart all over again. For that reason, whenever someone, anyone, showed him some interest, he would smile and let it pass. Too busy, still not ready yet. They were all valid reasons. What he didn’t say was he still hadn’t forgotten his first love.

His one-sided first love. He did have doubts if he was Bucky’s first love, but he dared not think much further.

Sometimes he would get so tired from drawing at the agency, he couldn’t draw anything for his own projects—so much so that his teachers had eyed him with disapproval several times. The result of having no inspiration was a steady stream of nightmares. Steve’s nightmares were mostly images of Bucky and Romanoff getting married. One day he even woke up with a fury and smashed his easels; but he stopped himself when he thought up a plan to save up to buy a ticket to California. He went out to work.

Seeing how depressed he was, Steve’s friends suggested that he should exercise more to boost endorphins to stimulate his inspiration, and in the end he became addicted to kickboxing and hurt his hand. He eventually decided he should go back to punching sand bags after his hand had recovered.

With his left hand on a sling, Steve only had his right hand to depend on, and that affected the speed of his drawing. His boss at the agency was kind enough to relieve him and let him work on his own projects at home. Steve had several collaborations going on with his classmates, and one of them was an ad commissioned by the National Shooting Sports Foundation. The model was Natasha Romanoff, who would be representing the US Olympic team. The students were allowed to participate in the still photography. Steve wanted to find out how Bucky had been recently, so he put on his lanyard and went to the photoshoot.

Natasha was more beautiful than he remembered. Steve stared at the red-haired woman under the lights from afar, but he didn’t see Bucky in the studio. College had kept him busy from accompanying his girlfriend, maybe? Every student in the project was given some time to talk to Romanoff to see if they could brainstorm any new, interesting angles. Such opportunity was rare to come by, and Steve appreciated it. When it was his turn to go inside the conference room, he didn’t ask any irrelevant questions, although Natasha scrutinized him the entire time.

“Rogers, right?” She addressed him just as he was about to leave the room. “What happened to your hand?”

“Got injured during kickboxing.” Steve smiled as he waved his right hand. “Good thing I’m not left-handed.”

“You’re taller,” she added. “You started to grow after seventeen?”

Steve tilted his head. “I’m a late bloomer?” He picked up the materials he’d gathered from their conversation earlier on and tried to keep the smile on his face. “You’re still so beautiful, Natasha.”

The red-haired woman nodded. She didn’t stop him from leaving this time.

The next day when he got home from school, Steve found Bucky standing outside his door. He hadn't changed. Not at all. He’d only replaced his usual hoodie with a shirt. Steve remembered that shirt even now. It was white with thin, dark grey stripes and there was a gold eagle on the chest with its wings spread. The shirt looked a bit old at a glance, and the collar, where there should have been a tie around it, was slightly disheveled. Although Steve had never seen the shirt before, it hung naturally on Bucky like a second skin. Bucky had a narrow brown belt around his waist and he was wearing a pair of gunmetal grey pants. The unruly bangs of his brown hair were hanging down his forehead.

Steve walked straight to Bucky. He wanted to have a good look at him. If possible, he also wanted to give Bucky a kiss.

He wasn’t in Bucky’s line of sight. He was almost standing in front of Bucky until the brunet turned to find him there.

“Steve?” Bucky quirked his brows. “You…”

Steve moved closer, so close that Bucky had no space to stand up from the ledge where he was sitting. “I’m good. Are you happy? With what you see?”

“You were smaller…” it took Bucky a moment to come out with that sentence. Then he turned slightly sideways, gently pushing Steve’s shoulder so that he could have enough space to stand up. It could have been Steve’s imagination, but once Bucky left the sphere of Steve’s shadow, it felt as if he’d fled in defeat. More or less.

That was true. One and half years ago, Steve was nine inches shorter than he was now, and even up to this day, there were people who refused to believe that he was Steve Rogers. For example, Julia’s sister.

“Come on in. What are you doing in Manhattan?” Steve walked down the steps to the basement, took out his keys, and opened the door; but Bucky was still standing at the top of the steps. “Not coming in?”

“Are you okay? Your hand?”

Steve couldn’t read Bucky’s expression against the light, but his tone sounded tight with concern.

Steve tapped his left shoulder with his right hand. “It’ll be fine after two days. Just took off the sling.”

Bucky nodded. “Well, then,” he sounded more relaxed, “I should go.”

Steve frowned. So he was here because of Steve’s injury? “Are you kidding me?” Bucky was content to fly all the way from the West Coast just to get a glimpse of him? Steve hadn't saved enough money to buy a ticket, and Bucky flew all the way here just to see him for what? Five minutes? Steve strutted up the steps and held Bucky’s hand. The brunet seemed confused, but Steve would rather pull the man into his apartment and talk things out instead of letting him leave. “You have to come in. I don’t have to work tonight. We should catch up.”

Bucky punched him in the face once they got inside the apartment.

Amidst the flurry of movement, Steve encircled him in his arms and refused to let go. “Bucky, please—”

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Bucky shook him off with a sound knock of his elbow. “You think it’s funny to lie to me about your injury?”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand with his left out of desperation. His hand had been injured, but it had long since fully recovered; he was so familiar with slings since he was a kid that he could tie a proper one himself without going to the hospital. He’d never meant to deceive Bucky into coming here, and he hadn't thought he was important enough for Bucky to make the trip; he just wanted to attract Natasha’s attention. Besides, Bucky might not see him as an old boyfriend, but at least they'd been best friends for the longest time. He’d at least give him a call, right?

“Since you like getting hurt so much, let me give you a hand!” Bucky gave him a shove and pushed him against the wall. “You’re taller than me. Looks like you should be able to handle a couple of my punches!” A punch—just a couple of inches away from Steve’s face—landed on the wall with a resonating thud as Bucky finished his sentence. The sound was as loud as the punch was hard. Steve was so astounded that he grabbed Bucky’s hand to examine it. The hand was definitely swollen, but the bones should be intact. Bucky withdrew his hand in a flash, turned and opened the door, ready to leave.

Luckily, Steve’s reflexes were quick enough to push down the door handle. He bent down and picked Bucky up, arms around his legs, and deposited him on the bed. “I’ll let you hit me. Just don’t leave, please? Stay the night. I wanna talk to you.”

Bucky glared at him, breathing hard. Since the time when thirteen year old Steve told Bucky not to avenge him, Steve had never seen Bucky so angry. Bucky would get unhappy, but he hardly ever got mad at Steve. Mostly at himself because, as the eldest son, Bucky had to take care of his siblings. He wasn’t supposed to lose his temper so easily.

Steve took out a bag of frozen beans from the fridge and placed it on Bucky’s hand. Bucky shook off his hand and threw the bag of beans aside. “I’ll give you ten minutes. My plane flies in two hours.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Bucky.” Dark thoughts went through Steve’s mind when he said that. There was a utility closet in the bedroom and inside the closet were some very secure line pipes. He was willing to lock Bucky inside rather than let him leave. “You have to let me finish what I wanna say, then give me a good beating so we’re even.”

“Who wants to get even with you?” Bucky said coldly. “What you owe me, Rogers, we’ll never get even.”

“So what’s with Natasha?” Steve didn’t want to fight with Bucky, he just wanted answers to all the questions that had been accumulating and to settle everything between them and tell Bucky never to leave him again. Bucky remained silent. Steve lowered his head to find Bucky’s lips and kissed him without warning. Every inch of that sweetness was just the same as his memory of that evening. Exactly the same. The outline of Bucky’s lips, the slight dryness at the corners, the little crack on his lower lip. His love.

“How did you know where I live?”

Still no answer to that question. Bucky pushed Steve’s face away when the blond wanted to kiss him again. “Sarah gave me the address.”

Steve was stunned. “You’ve been in contact with my ma?”

Bucky didn’t seem to think that was a problem. “I told Sarah not to tell you anything about me.”

His ma was in this? No wonder Sarah never asked him anything about him and Bucky. “Did you guys think it was funny to make me look like a fool? You didn’t think that I deserve at least a hello and some news from you?”

Bucky looked as if he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself. “I was hoping you would forget me.”

“To forget or to remember, a man can make the decision himself. It’s not up to others to decide.” Outraged, Steve stooped down, supporting his hands on both sides of the bed where Bucky was sitting. “I owe you, so much. You’re right, I don’t want to forget you to settle the debt. I want you, Bucky. I love you. You’re the one person that I want to love most in the entire world, and you can’t leave me.”

Bucky bit his lower lip. The crack on the lip was the result of this habit. A bad habit. Steve lifted his hands to cup Bucky’s face, thumb caressing his lips back and forth. When Bucky bit down, Steve would use his hand to save that mouth. The third time, Bucky simply opened his mouth and bit Steve’s thumb, and the latter just turned and climbed on the bed, pressing Bucky under him.

Steve didn’t let Bucky leave the bed that evening. Not even once. Afterward, he carried Bucky into the bathroom to take a shower. He heard his roommate trying to open the door only to discover the door had been locked from the inside. Steve had his fair share of being locked outside his apartment. He was busy and he couldn’t be bothered to get up and ask his roommate to crash somewhere else. His Bucky was clinging to him tightly, demanding he go deeper. Steve didn’t have enough brain cells to think, let alone care if the door was locked or open.

He was woken up by the bag of frozen beans. Bucky had wrapped a handkerchief around his hand and pressed the beans to Steve’s swollen face, sharing the cold compress with his own injured hand. Steve gestured Bucky to lean down, but the brunet looked at him with disapproval. Eventually, Bucky complied and lowered himself to kiss Steve. Once and twice and more.

Bucky had already put on his clothes. Steve had considered whether or not he should burn the shirt or something. Luckily, he didn’t. Bucky told him later that was his one and only presentable shirt. He was relying on that shirt to finish his class report for public finance. Steve didn’t want Bucky to go, so he asked Bucky how many days he could skip school.

Bucky grinned. He stayed with Steve the entire next week, and Steve got his roommate to crash with his girlfriend.

Natasha had her own boyfriend, but Bucky was her roommate. They rented a pretty amazing house. Natasha and her boyfriend, and Bucky. Steve later frequented the house quite often. He especially liked the moment when the early morning light seeped into the bedroom, enough to annoy Bucky, who would crumple his beautiful face. Years later, when Elliot and Claudia were born, the babies had the exact same look when they woke up from their sleep.

Steve went back to Brooklyn with Bucky that Christmas. He kissed Bucky over and over again under the mistletoe.

That same Christmas, Bucky’s brother, who had become a soldier, also returned for the holidays. When he opened the door to see Steve standing before him, the first thing he did was punch the blond twice in the face. If Steve didn’t have training in kickboxing, which helped him evade the punches after that, he would have been Lionel Barnes’ sandbag. Bucky stopped his brother’s blows, but he didn’t ask what had motivated his actions.

Steve knew why Lionel did what he did, so he took the punches willingly, without hesitation.

Bucky had suffered for at least four years because of him. For the first year, he kept wondering about Steve’s feelings and also had to carry the responsibilities of a friend. The second year, he had more or less reciprocated Steve’s feelings, but he was afraid Steve had chosen him because he had no other options. That made him sad. The third year, he was unhappy because he heard Steve had gotten cozy with someone else. The fourth year, Bucky only heard that Steve was having a tough time because the pressure was on. He was busy with work and he had even injured his hand. That year, Bucky skipped school for an entire week during mid-term exams. At least three professors threatened to flunk him and he'd almost gotten expelled from UCLA. Lionel didn’t know all of this because he had been on the battlefield at the time; but when he’d gotten the e-mails after returning to base, he was extremely pissed.

Lionel grew up watching Bucky constantly walking away from him. It was bad enough that Bucky hadn’t been very protective of his younger brother; but to have his heart broken by a punk who was actually a loser and then to wait around for the loser to eventually become a somebody, only to be heartbroken once again? That was total bullshit.

“My brother deserves better, you son of a bitch!” Lionel glared disdainfully at Steve from head to toe and then pointed at the tip of Steve’s nose with his slender fingers. “If you dare mess up his future one more time, I promise you the next time, when I go back to camp, I will stash away two rifles and come back to make a bee hive out of you, fucking Rogers!”

Steve was very happy with his last name, but the Barneses obviously had their own opinions about him.

Steve could take it, honestly. He could still take it even after receiving death threats. If you let him tell you what was going to happen soon in their lives, you would understand why he could take it. But he assumed some of the things that had happened and a number of the details might enrage more members in the Barnes family; but he promised every day Bucky would be happier than the previous one. 

That was undeniable, thought Steve, as he paused from his recollection of their love story. He walked toward Bucky, who was reading his newspaper in the background. Bucky read five newspapers every day; but he used to spend every day in court until Steve asked him to quit his boring life as a judge to stay at home. Don’t get it wrong, Steve didn’t ask Bucky to be a homemaker or anything, Bucky knew everything about homemaking a long time ago; but Steve wanted Bucky to be healthy and happy, instead of burying his nose in case files in the middle of the night.

“Bucky, don’t you think it would be more interesting if you take it from here?”

“Steve, I don’t find your conjecture and accusations about my family disliking you interesting at all.”

“Bucky, your brother did point a rifle at me once. What conjectures do I need?”

“He was just going hunting. Oh my god, Rogers, is it necessary for you to react so strongly?”

“I thought we had a deal that you would never, ever, call me by my last name. There’re so many Rogers in this house, including you; and it must not be used as a collective synonym for jerk, asshole, or a dead man. Elliot can’t be your favorite and go to school with a last name bearing those kind of implications. I won’t accept it.”

“I still don’t know why you think having me recollect our lives would be interesting. I think you’re just imitating _Modern Family _.”__

__“Accusing the future recipient of the National Arts Award. Excellent, Bucky, excellent.”_ _

__“Before you become the recipient of the National Arts Award, you must first cut down on how frequently you appear in the media. They tend to appreciate artists who keep a low profile. You have to stop Tony and Jarvis from organizing entertaining PR events with no substantial artistic value. It’s an overstatement to say that you’re the embodiment of justice, the symbol of America. You’re an artist. The fact that you like using the stars and stripes as your creative elements doesn’t mean you represent America, nor does it mean you signify justice. You are you, Rogers, and in this case, your last name is used to point out the ordinary human beings in the world who are imperfect and who will never be perfect; so I believe it’s acceptable. Our family can accept such usage.”_ _

__“You always keep me grounded, Bucky. You know I don’t like appearing on the news.”_ _

__“No, I don’t. What do I know?” Bucky put down the papers and pulled Steve’s collar to ask for a kiss. “You’re so good at adjusting yourself, getting used to all this publicity. I’ve not been able to get used to these since the penthouse on First Avenue. No matter how many times we move, I’ll never be able to adjust, so stop persuading me to move over and over. And no more redecorating the apartment every season.”_ _

__“I promise you, now all you have to do is replace the recording that I’ve made this morning and say anything you want to say.”_ _

__“Including accusing you of saying untruths just now?”_ _

__“Bucky, it’s a relative concept.”_ _

__“No, Rogers, I believe it’s not.”_ _

__“Does the Rogers here mean ‘I love you’?”_ _

__“No.” Bucky sighed. Finally, as Steve had wished, he put down the newspapers and walked to the small video camera that hadn't stopped recording. He moved around the camera to check the angle, then walked slowly into the recording’s periphery. Next, he turned to stare at Steve who was walking into the frame. “What are you doing?”_ _

__“I think I could add some commentary? That way we don’t even have to go to the menu to choose the commentary function.”_ _

__“No, Rogers. That’s cheating.”_ _

__“Bucky…”_ _

__“Quit that ‘oh, Bucky,’ we’ve discussed it.”_ _

__“Sweetheart, I’m just sitting next to you, I promise I won’t attack Mr. and Mrs. Barnes. I wasn’t even badmouthing about them just now. I was just saying they love you very much.”_ _

__“You call them Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, and I call Sarah ma; I think our definition of badmouthing is different.”_ _

__“Babe, my ma loves you.”_ _

__“My mother will love you, too, when she finally sees that you love me. I never stop telling them that I’m happy.”_ _

__“They just don’t believe it.”_ _

__“Steve, we’ve talked about free will.” Bucky glared at Steve with irritation. “You’re not very trustworthy according to your track record.”_ _

__“C’mere. I think if you’re able to touch a certain part of me, you’ll remember to include more nice things about me in the description. Bucky, don’t glare at me, I know I can’t go ‘oh, Bucky’ on you, what about Pooh Bear?”_ _

__“Which part of you? When you allowed yourself to wallow in your dark side, did you ever think you almost destroyed me? Have you ever thought that what you did in Washington was practically a declaration of war on the government?”_ _

__“Bucky, there were young men dying everyday. Young men just like us, even. Lionel could have been one of them. The fact that we were lucky didn’t mean other families were just as lucky. I didn’t want to be a hero, you know I’ve no intention of being one; but if it’s the right thing, I can’t not do the right thing.”_ _

__“Always doing the right things, right, Rogers?”_ _

__“The Rogers here means ‘jerk,’ I hear that.”_ _

__“No, it doesn't.” Bucky laid down. He was almost out of the frame of the camera, showing only his bended knees on the couch, as he settled his head between Steve’s thigh and waist._ _

__Trying to ignore the urge to lean down and kiss Bucky, Steve’s eyes looked at the white ceiling instead. In the five months since they’d moved in here, he had already re-painted the apartment twice because Elliot always took the airbrush Steve used for painting and sprayed paint all over the place. Or sometimes Claudia thought spaghetti or other colorful food was more suitable on the ceiling than on her plate. Only Maximilian, his precious Maximilian, would stand beside him and hand him the pail of paint, although the little one wasn’t any taller than three pails of paint piled one on top of the other._ _

__Steve would always kiss Max’s forehead with a smile and tell him that his father was just as short when he was a kid, but you would grow up tall just like a Rogers; you would become stronger because you love someone. What Steve didn’t say was: before loving anyone, you have to do more than become stronger._ _

__Bucky finally gave up his struggle and let Steve kiss him._ _

__

__X_ _

__

__Bucky thought it required all his courage in order to love someone._ _

__Bucky thought Steve was annoying. He knew that when he first met Steve when he was five._ _

__Steve was an annoying fella. He refused to take medicine when he was down with a cold. Bucky threatened to punch him and he just wouldn't listen. Bucky told him he wouldn’t get better if he didn’t take his medication and he still wouldn't listen; but when Bucky stood up and pretended to leave the Rogers’ apartment, Steve finally clambered to the table and took his pills. Then he made Bucky promise him that, even after he’d fallen asleep when the meds kicked in, the brunet would still be there with him because he wanted Bucky to be the first thing he saw when he woke up. His crying wouldn’t stop unless Bucky appeared and by then Steve’s condition would have escalated to a high fever from crying himself blue. It was a vicious cycle._ _

__Bucky hated Steve. Very much. Sometimes when he was looking at Steve's sleeping form, Bucky would take a clothespin and clip it on the blond’s nose. It could be owing to this prank being played so often that, many years later, the papers always complimented Steve on his fine, sharp nose, which rivaled a sculpture. They called him the most handsome artist of his time._ _

__“Honey, my nose is natural.” Disgruntled, Steve lowered his body in an attempt to rub the tip of his nose against Bucky’s. But Bucky had long discerned these ridiculous antics and he angled his face with perfect timing and bit the tip of the other man’s nose instead._ _

__“I especially feel like biting you today. Don’t talk nonsense.” Bucky bared his teeth. But in the next moment his eyes met Steve’s and he knew the meaning behind those eyes. He still couldn’t help but laugh._ _

__Steve may have been unhappy that the affection in his eyes was being ridiculed, but it wasn’t as if he could control his emotions so easily. His emotions were always threatening to overflow, the way he looked at Bucky and Bucky’s never-ending love for him._ _

__“Shut up, Steve. I thought I was the one talking now.” Bucky brought up his hands and pulled Steve down for another round of kisses. Where was he?_ _

__He hated Steve Rogers. Very much._ _

__Lydia was one year younger than Steve. Lionel was two years younger than Steve. Emily was three years younger than Steve, which meant that Bucky was the oldest of all of them. As such, the adults always entrusted him with the responsibility of taking care of the children; but Bucky was only four years older than the youngest one. He was still a child himself, although no one took notice of it because he had always been a tall and lanky boy. He was a fast learner. Most of the time he didn’t go looking for trouble, but trouble would come looking for him._ _

__And Steve Rogers came to him. Four year old Steve, who knew nothing about him at all, had hugged Bucky, who also knew nothing about Steve at all, and told him loudly that he loved him. Bucky still remembered that day, although Steve had no recollection of it. Steve had said he wanted to marry Bucky. No offense, but Bucky preferred Brooke Shields. Brooke Shields was his love. Had been since he was five, all the way to fifteen._ _

__After that, Steve Rogers was Bucky’s love. Bucky was too lazy to bring this up mainly because there was nothing to say about it. He’d been spending time with him for ten years and took care of him most of the time. Unless they didn’t get along, it was inevitable that he would fall in love with Steve. Logically speaking, if they didn’t get along well, they wouldn’t have spent ten years together. So, for Bucky, his love for Steve Rogers developed over time. It was just that the object of his affection was a boy. No one would ask him why if it had been a girl, but why Rogers? Everyone who knew him had asked this question at least once: why Rogers?_ _

__Why not?_ _

__“Go away, Steve, I think we’ve had enough kissing for today.” Bucky was poised to remove himself from Steve, but Steve wrapped his arm around him, lifted him up a little, and now Bucky’s upper body was snugged in Steve’s embrace. No way to escape. Sick of kissing, Bucky pushed his face away with slight disgust. “You could’ve told me you were making a porno.”_ _

__The video was part of the exhibition. It wasn’t porn, it was art. Yeah, tell yourself that, Steve. Bucky remembered telling Steve he would never be Steve’s model undressed. Ever. Dali was crazy and he belonged to the last century. Now that there was internet, Bucky didn’t want his children to find their father’s naked body on Google in the future. If Dali had known they had internet now, he wouldn’t have done it, either._ _

__So, why not Steve Rogers? Of course it was Steve Rogers._ _

__Steve had beautiful eyes. They were the color of the morning sky when the first light of day began to flourish. No gem in the world had even the slightest similarity to that color. It was the ocean Bucky could stare at all day, the stars Bucky could touch repeatedly. Steve Rogers belonged to him. Since Bucky was five until the day he died. Even his parents and siblings weren't be able to give Bucky that kind of feeling. Only Steve could._ _

__Steve couldn’t live without him, so of course it was Steve. He was the air Steve breathed, and Steve was the blaze that kept him warm._ _

__So, truth to be told, Bucky fell in love with Steve over time. He was used to looking at that face, it appeared in his dreams. It was also the face he saw every day when he opened his eyes. There was a time when Bucky didn’t want to go to elementary school because he couldn’t be by Steve’s side. Moreover, he had to work hard to understand other people and be understood by them, then he had to decide if they were on the same wavelength, if they should be friends. It was a pain in the ass._ _

__Bucky played with the same bunch of kids since he was little and he knew those kids disliked Steve. He'd thought about changing his clique for Steve, but the process of getting to know new people was too tedious for him. Steve never admitted to being bullied by Bucky’s friends and he refused to badmouth them, so Bucky just let him be. They had verbal fights over these issues, but fighting with Steve made Bucky sad. Bucky had promised himself once that he would never fight with Steve for as long as he lived, but it was never an easy task to tolerate Steve._ _

__The year when Bucky was fifteen wasn’t a very happy chapter of the story. It was essentially a discovery of his own desires and he couldn’t find an outlet for them. Boys wanted to kiss the person they liked; but not all boys could kiss the person they wanted to kiss in broad daylight, especially when they didn’t know if that person felt the same way for them. Bucky sometimes sensed Steve’s eyes pursuing him, but they turned away the minute he searched for them. For a very long time, Bucky tried to convince himself that it was all in his head—a misconception of his feelings, a misconception of his pounding heartbeat and quickened pulse. Even Steve’s smiles were a misconception, and Steve’s exasperation, too. It was all wrong._ _

__Bucky first learned about sex between two men through Jarvis. Relax, Jarvis’ fault was that he started using the internet way too early. And since then Bucky began to imagine on his own, but he was afraid to hurt Steve. It upset Bucky more to see Steve get hurt than to see himself get hurt. After much deliberation, Bucky decided they could do it another way and there would be nothing to worry about. He was strong, he wouldn’t get hurt; he was only scared that it would be the end of their friendship. For that reason, he decided that he would do it at the turning point of his life. He could leave after that and never see Steve again. He could do that._ _

__After thinking about it for two years, in his last year in high school, Bucky had a vague vibe that the attraction might not entirely be in his imagination._ _

__Steve refused to let him be alone with girls. There was a long line of girls asking Bucky to be their tutor, but eventually they gave up because there was always a Steve following him everywhere. Steve with his tattered sketch book had all of Bucky’s attention. Steve, who always wanted Bucky to turn and look at him or else the light wouldn’t be right, and Bucky always did as he was told. Sometimes he would look at Steve and sigh; but, more often than not, he would smile at Steve every time the blond called him._ _

__Steve would blush when Bucky smiled at him. Once, when Bucky leaned closer to talk to Steve, the blond had a physical reaction._ _

__When Bucky went home that day, he used his own pocket money and made steak for his family. All because he knew Steve liked him._ _

__But Steve only liked him. Steve wasn’t planning to tell him or act on it. Bucky couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t his imagination, then what was it? Ultimately, Bucky realized that he was the only person in school who would touch Steve without reserve. Boys fooled around all the time and it was normal to get physical reactions. Maybe Steve did like him, but only because Bucky had always been by his side._ _

__Bucky wanted to leave. He’d thought about it before and now he only had to execute his plan. He chose UCLA because it was cheap even for students outside California. He knew how to drive, he could work part-time and buy himself a cheap car to drive himself around and explore the world. America was more than Brooklyn or New York, there were plenty of other places to go. Bucky thought if—after driving through all of the United States and seeing the entire world— Steve was still the only person he liked, he would kneel down before Steve and ask Steve to be with him forever and never leave him._ _

__That day, Bucky had a dream like that. He woke up with a lonely and desolate heaviness in his heart. That was how he decided to lock all these conjectures in his heart and give it a shot and then set himself free. Steve might get mad and blame him, but if it was consensual on both sides, it would be a memory; otherwise, he would stop if Steve ask him to leave. He could concede even though he wanted Steve so very much._ _

__Because if you let Bucky choose, he would rather hurt himself than hurt Steve._ _

__He set off for UCLA the next day. If he hadn’t run into Natasha on campus, he would have probably had no friends._ _

__He was initially on the national team, but his performance flagged significantly and he was subsequently dropped from the team._ _

__When Bucky first got to Los Angeles, he drank everyday. He was working at a bar and his boss, Wilson, had told him that he could have all the left over hard liquor at the end of the day. He wasn’t allowed to touch unopened bottles, but he could have the unfinished ones._ _

__Yes, that was how he drank away his qualification for the national team. He didn’t go hunting with his father and his brother anymore because he had wrecked himself from all the drinking. He knew that, but he wouldn’t put the blame on Steve. It wasn’t Steve who made him drink, he started it himself. Bucky knew he would drink himself useless if he continued to go down that path, so he checked himself in to an anonymous rehab in San Fransisco under the reference of a professor from law school, where he was working part-time. The professor told Bucky that if he wanted to pursue a career in law, he had better not leave any record of going to rehab._ _

__Bucky wasn’t that good of a person, but his parents were biased. He couldn’t help being depressed when his mother held his hands and sobbed at the rehab. He couldn’t stop his parents from cursing Steve. He wanted to pull himself together, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t drunk, and if he couldn’t sleep he would think about Lydia berating Steve Rogers for being together with Julia McCartney without any thought for Bucky. Bucky had told Lydia everything. That evening after having sex with Steve, Bucky went back home thinking he should clean up in the bathroom; but he was injured and, for fear of infection, he had asked Lydia to help him with the application of the medicated cream. Lydia cried and her tears tumbled down onto Bucky’s back._ _

__Yes, she knew. They all knew. It was too painful for him to carry the secret alone._ _

__And Lydia had later carried more crosses for him._ _

__His family would of course protect him. They thought everything had happened because they were the ones who encouraged him to befriend Steve. Several times, Lydia had prevented their father from blowing Steve’s head off through the window. Lydia told Mr. Barnes explicitly that if Steve Rogers died at his hands, Bucky would spend the rest of his days in hell. However, Lydia did confess she regretted stopping their father from doing so._ _

__That year was long and slow. Bucky went to rehab and fell off the wagon and eventually he went to see a shrink. Natasha took him running and Clint went to classes with him. Bucky pleaded with the professor at law school to let him resume his part-time job and he finally got his life together, albeit slowly. Bucky still got himself drunk occasionally. When he couldn’t find a reason not to drink, Natasha would be there for him, stroking his hair and singing Russian lullabies in a hushed voice to put him to sleep. Bucky went to rehab again after Easter. This time he almost left a record because of a DUI. He didn’t hit anyone, but the car was wrecked and his driver’s license was suspended. He never retook his driving test again and he never needed to._ _

__Steve would drive him around on that old Harley. Steve had even ridden all the way across the States to get him and then drove him back to New York from Los Angeles for Christmas. Steve would never leave him alone again. Steve wanted him. There was nothing more wonderful than that in the entire world. Bucky subsequently admitted to Steve about his drinking problems. Steve was mad, but not at him. Steve was mad at himself._ _

__Bucky had chosen to tell Steve about this part of his past a month before Elliot was born._ _

__“How angry were you?” Bucky turned around to look at Steve in the lens. There was a long silence._ _

__Steve brushed Bucky’s bangs. “If not for the fact you said you wanted a punk like me, I would have left you forever.”_ _

__He didn’t deserve Bucky. He’d always known that._ _

__Steve was very talented. He was the most outstanding student in SVA. In March of his junior year, he applied for a project funded by an Austrian art foundation. The project was for a group of artists to live in an apartment together and create art. Such projects were numerous in Europe, but Steve spent a lot of time getting ready for it. He took a leave of absence from SVA when the application went through because the apartment the artists were going to live in was in Los Angeles. Steve had applied for the project for no other reason except to be closer to Bucky._ _

__Despite his absurd past, Bucky’s grades for the subsequent semesters were excellent and his average managed to make it to the lowest requirements for law school. Steve spent six months with him in Los Angeles and Bucky was of course willing to go back to Steve. This time, he was finally willing to enroll in NYU to pursue his law degree. Living with Steve at that time was a period of stability for Bucky. He didn’t drink anymore. He could sleep peacefully with Steve by his side. Steve was his helm and anchor. At long last, he didn’t have to drift around now that he was safely docked._ _

__Steve continued to receive attention from the media and sponsorships for his work from multiple foundations. But he was also castigated for some of his behavior. Steve disliked over-analysis of his work. He hated even more the art galleries in New York that were always pestering him. Coincidentally, Steve was at his low point during those few years. The war in Afghanistan was unrelenting. One of his friends from kickboxing went to Afghanistan and never came back, while some friends returned without their hands or legs. But the war just never seemed to end._ _

__They were New Yorkers, they’d been through the collapse of the World Trade Center, but that didn’t mean they accepted it as justification for the war on terrorism._ _

__On the day it happened, Steve had been somewhere near the premises, and Bucky had been in classes at NYU. Steve managed to get home safe and sound that evening after walking for what seemed like forever. The first thing he did when he got home was to kneel on the floor and plead with Bucky to never stop loving him. Ever._ _

__Bucky embraced him gently and gave him the promise that he would never stop loving him, nor would he ever leave him._ _

__Steve’s work became dark and grim when the war in Iraq erupted. They still lived together, but Steve began to spend more time on his art. Bucky had taken over the lease of Steve’s roommate after returning to New York and started living with Steve, but even he could go an entire day without seeing him. Steve locked himself in the utility closet. Sometimes he wouldn’t turn on the lights, sometimes he would even relieve himself in there. Steve had hurt Bucky in the utility closet. Several times when Bucky went in to check on him, Steve would bark at him and demand he leave the room._ _

__Bucky’d thought about giving up, but in the end he didn’t. Come to think of it, Bucky knew that was the time when Steve had needed him most since he’d grown taller. He wouldn’t desert Steve and Steve eventually asked him for help, making it more difficult for Bucky to leave even though he had been hurt and battered in the whole process. During those days, Bucky maintained his habit of checking on Steve every now and then. He shaved him and gave him sponge baths. Occasionally Steve would allow him to stay the night in the utility closet and he did._ _

__Steve’s shaggy beard scratched Bucky’s back and he only let Steve hug him from the front because sometimes he barely recognized Steve and it was only when he was looking at Steve that Bucky was positive the man he loved was still living in that shell. The man was probably hiding, or asleep, but he knew, however rare it was, the gentle side of the man could still emerge._ _

__It was definitely not a pleasant experience to go to court with a sore body._ _

__Bucky was still a newbie attorney at that time and the law firm he was working at was distinguished and very competitive. A junior attorney usually had three or four cases to follow simultaneously, but Bucky wasn’t ambitious. Out of the six partners, he chose the least renowned one to be his mentor for inheritance law litigation. Such cases were usually boring and uninteresting, but it was easy to encounter prominent cases in New York. One that involved an influential family promised a generous bonus and Bucky’s fortune accumulated quickly._ _

__But he was anxious that he couldn’t find his way into Steve’s heart and work was so stressful he could hardly breathe. He knew working at the Supreme Court was tough with all the cases waiting to be dealt with; but at least the hours were stable enough for him to go home and get the opportunity to talk to Steve. If he was lucky, he might even be able to stay by Steve’s side. Bucky pleaded with one of his professors to recommend him for work as an assistant to a judge. Life at the court was busy, but he had more or less found a routine and he could finally spend time with Steve after work._ _

__One day he’d fallen asleep next to Steve. It was a rare moment. Most of the time, Steve was the one who was all groggy and confused, feeling as if the end of the world was coming. Steve looked asleep even when he was awake; but Bucky had been too preoccupied with too many cases at that time. He was so tired that he’d fallen asleep in his suit within minutes of entering the utility closet and having talked to Steve for a couple of minutes._ _

__Steve woke him up in the early morning looking very sober. That was what Bucky was thinking when Steve suddenly said, “I can get by on my own. You don’t have to do this.”_ _

__Bucky tried to convince himself this wasn't a break up. This was just Steve not wanting him to come to the utility closet. They’d been through worse, they could overcome this round. “The thing is, you don’t have to.” Bucky took a deep breath and put both his hands on Steve’s shoulders. “Till the end of the line, remember?”_ _

__One day, Jarvis came to visit them after a trip to Calcutta. Bucky only found out then that Jarvis had a job at Silicon Valley and all his bosses loved Steve’s work. They wanted to collect his work from the last couple of years to make a collection from different periods. Bucky told Jarvis honestly that he was now the breadwinner of the family. Steve spent his days inside the utility closet, refusing to come out and his work were a clutter of disorder._ _

__Unheeding Steve’s objections, Jarvis barged into the utility closet, took a look around, and picked up some paintings. He even came back to their apartment later and helped Steve set up internet equipment and created an online exhibition of Steve’s works to get the galleries off of his back. It turned out a bunch of young Silicon entrepreneurs loved Steve’s artwork and somehow Steve received an invitation from the American Fine Arts Festival saying they wanted to make a display of Steve’s works at MoMA through projection. There would also be a projection of his works in DC on the same day._ _

__Steve suddenly picked himself up. Bucky wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, but he let Steve leave the utility closet and go to Malibu to accept the subsidization of the Starks and get ready for his upcoming exhibition._ _

__Steve drew a lot of attention from the exhibition, even more so than before. The journalists couldn’t find the man of the hour because he was Los Angeles, so they pestered Bucky instead. There were so many of them waiting for Bucky outside the Supreme Court that he could hardly make his way to work. His own fame sky-rocketed thanks to such peculiar exposure and the Democrats turned their eyes on him. By the end of that year, Bucky was nominated by the Democrats and became the youngest judge in the history of the state of New York. He was twenty-nine._ _

__The presidential election took place on the day after the exhibit opened. Steve finally came home before the opening. He looked just like he had before he’d left the apartment: bushy beard and shaggy hair. Steve let Bucky cut his hair and shave his beard. The man he’d loved for so many years finally reappeared in the mirror, but Bucky wasn’t confident if he could, as he’d promised, be with the man till the end of the line._ _

__The colors in Steve’s eyes were unknown and foreign to him, as though the idealist had died. The man who used to stick it out and never back down wasn't there anymore._ _

__Steve kissed Bucky, he patted his thighs and motioned Bucky to sit on his lap. When Steve penetrated him, Bucky put his neck on Steve’s shoulder to feel the warmth of the blond inside him, to experience the spreading heat of his desire. When it ended, Steve carried him from the bathroom to their bed, just like all those years ago in New York, when they'd spent the entire night together without leaving the bed._ _

__The next morning, when Bucky was too tired to open his eyes, Steve told him that young Stark’s girlfriend, Pepper, was managing a medical organization that specialized in assisting infertile couples in having their own babies through surrogate mothers, volunteer egg donors, or friends and family members who were willing to donate their eggs. Anyway, Steve told Bucky he wanted a child. His or Bucky’s, he didn’t care because he didn’t see the difference. In fact, he wanted at least three, maybe even four kids._ _

__He would be a good father and Bucky would be the best father in the world._ _

__“And I’m with you till the end of the line. I’m never going back into the utility closet.” Steve kissed him tenderly._ _

__The Steve who was full of dreams and ideals was undoubtedly dead, but this Steve was different. He'd come to know this new world, he’d awoken from the darkness of war. If Steve wasn’t going to hide in the utility closet, then Bucky was willing to go to the new world with him and start a new page of their life._ _

__The exhibition opened that evening. Steve put his arm around Bucky’s waist and introduced him as the youngest judge in New York to everyone they met._ _

__He finally kept his mouth shut when Bucky stepped real hard on his foot._ _

__The initial plan for the exhibition was to project the stars and stripes bouncing off the sculpture of Lincoln, but the final result was blood oozing out of Lincoln’s temple, broken flags in pieces and layers of dark shadows._ _

__“I’m not a terrorist,” Steve explained. “Flowers don't bloom from the blood of terrorist actions._ _

__“I know freedom comes with a price and it’s high. But I want our children to never have to sacrifice their beautiful lives for the sake of meaningless wars. This will be my last piece of work in America.”_ _

__Steve didn’t shirk away from the onslaught of public opinion and discussion. He was happy to defend his ideas and concepts. For the first time in his life, he took a passionate stance in explaining his artwork. Later, an art foundation in Hamburg offered him a position to work there and Elliot was born in the same month. Steve insisted a family shouldn't be separated in two different countries and wanted Bucky to choose between his career as a judge and Hamburg._ _

__Bucky was working on a massive case about illegal acquisition at that time. He’d spent his days in his office reading files into the late hours, but he always made it to feeding Elliot and changing his diapers when he got home in the middle of the night. He thought he could manage the burden. He was still young, in any case, and he could always fly to Hamburg to visit Steve when he had time off, and Sarah was willing to move into their apartment to help Bucky take care of Elliot._ _

__But Steve emphasized once again his discourse on a family should never be separated in two different countries. His stubbornness was beyond Bucky’s understanding._ _

__It was beyond the level of understanding even by the standard of Steve’s stubbornness._ _

__“Till the end of the line. Remember, Bucky?”_ _

__Bucky sighed wistfully. He made a statement to his voters to point out that family was the most sacred job and although he was grateful for their support, he had made the decision to stay with his family. After living three years in Hamburg, right before the birth of Claudia, Bucky’s father insisted that he’d had enough of flying to Germany to spend Christmas there and asked Steve to bring his two grandchildren and his son back to New York. Immediately._ _

__Jarvis continued to set up online exhibitions for Steve, but most of his works needed to be displayed in a big enough space, so Steve started to hunt for an apartment that was not only spacious enough for his works, but also for his family. And Stark probably had given one or two terrible suggestions. Such as: he had an entire level reserved for the Rogers in that new Stark building that was in the heart of New York._ _

__Bucky insisted that an apartment was good enough._ _

__When same-sex marriage was ruled legal nationwide, Pepper organized a grand wedding reception for them: Central Park, big white tent, Elliot as the ring bearer. Steve had even asked Bucky’s buddies from high school to give a hand at the reception. Knowing full well what Steve had in mind, Bucky allowed him to seek revenge through this method: those two girls who’d had an obvious crush on Bucky were not only given one of the best seats to witness their exchange of vows, they were even entrusted the responsibility of taking care of Elliot._ _

__Elliot was probably goaded on by Steve. He almost drove them crazy._ _

__Actually Steve didn’t have to goad Elliot into doing anything because the boy was a little devil all by himself. Every day, without fail, he was able to dissolve Max into a crying mess and, when no one was looking, he would pinch Claudia’s little face until it was red and swollen. He jumped onto the bed in the master bedroom every morning and crashed onto Bucky, demanding the brunet get up and make him breakfast. When Steve was going to give Bucky a morning kiss, he would push him away._ _

__“Go away, Rogers!”_ _

__“You’re a Rogers, too, little man.”_ _

__“I’m a Barnes. I don’t wanna be a Rogers like you!”_ _

__Those tantrum words had come from Lionel. Lionel told his nephew that Steve was a bad, bad wizard and he had deceived Bucky, which was why they were together. He told Elliot that he was Bucky’s little knight and he must save Bucky from the bad wizard._ _

__“But that was just a Harvey Potter bedtime story.” Bucky chuckled as he planted a kiss on Steve’s cheek._ _

__“Sweetheart, it’s Harry Potter.”_ _

__They had moved into a penthouse apartment five months ago. Bucky loved it and Steve agreed it would be the fort of the Rogers family for the next two hundred years. For Bucky, he just didn’t want to move anymore. Taking care of the children kept him busy and he didn’t want to handle any moving issues. If Lydia hadn’t come and taken the children away from him, he probably wouldn’t have had the time to sit down and chat for five minutes._ _

__“Does your father still want to blow my head off?” Steve walked to the camera and turned it off._ _

__Bucky flipped himself over and laid lazily on the couch. He was enjoying the serenity before the children returned._ _

__“I don’t think so. He named a duck he’d gotten from his last hunting trip ‘Steve,' so he should be happy.”_ _

__“You waited for me to turn off the camera to say that. You want to maintain his image as a loving father.”_ _

__“Steve, you knew that I was an attorney before we got married. Protecting the rights of related parties is my responsibility.”_ _

__“Sweetheart, we still have two hours.”_ _

__“And?”_ _

__“Pick a place?”_ _

__It was a simple question. Bucky supported his head with one hand and looked at Steve, who had seated himself on the floor next to the couch. He motioned the other man to move closer. He whispered softly into Steve’s ear and told him his answer. “With you, anywhere.”__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned in the tags, this story contains rape/non-con, and it's not pretty. If such content doesn't bother you, you can read the next two epilogues, if not, you can stop at the first epilogue which is chapter two.


	2. Epilogue One: In Hamburg

“Steve, I want you to make it clear with James that he can’t go on like that with only two, three hours of sleep every day.”

With her newborn grandson in her arms, a tired Winifred was rocking the baby to sleep while simultaneously talking to her son’s partner.

“Fred—”

“I thought we’d agreed that you should call me Mrs. Barnes.” Winifred gave Steve a severe look.

“My apologies, Mrs. Barnes,” Steve amended immediately. “If Bucky loves his job, I can’t stop him.”

“He may have been able to do that when he was twenty, Steve, but he’s thirty now and he has a child. On top of that, the condition of his health; you should know that. I don’t think his liver could withstand much more. I can’t imagine if his hepatitis relapses, or if he has cirrhosis. If you have his well-being in mind, you should tell him you need him to go to Berlin with you!”

“It’s Hamburg, Mrs. Barnes.” Steve sighed wistfully. He asked the waiter walking past their table for more water. “How could I even make that request after all these years? I’m in no position to ask anything from him.”

“And you think you’ve asked for anything less?” The brown-haired woman frowned. “Steve, just this once. Ask that of him. Just this one time, you’re going to make this request with his interests in mind.”

“Asking him to do anything against his will isn't having his interests in mind, Mrs. Barnes. Even as his partner, I—”

“Do it!” The woman cut him off harshly. “You do know how many Republicans are digging into his old files after your stunt. How many times can he smile and say, ‘Thank goodness I have a chauffeur now,’ when journalists mention his DUI record? He did his community service. Why must his integrity and professionalism continue to be questioned because of that? If he’s going to be judged by the scandalous media, I hope those embarrassing pictures of him in rehab never see daylight!”

Steve submitted to the woman’s fury silently, fixing his gaze on her calmly.

“Or maybe it should be exposed?” She couldn’t help but glare at the blond. “Maybe then you’ll know how much he's suffered.”

As a mother, Winifred thought she had every reason and all the right to point her finger at the man sitting before her. She did like the boy even though he was the reason why James was always in the apartment next door. But she had seen how the bullies had chased him into an alley and he never ran away and always put up a fight until James came to his rescue. He never gave up and she had admired him for that.

“I know the best solution is for me to leave him.” Steve had always known what they wanted. The Barneses hated his guts. Bucky was probably the only one who couldn’t see that, or maybe he didn’t want to expose the fact that his beloved family hated Steve. “I’ve caused pain and suffering because of my ignorance, because we didn’t understand our importance to each other, and I’m trying my best to redeem that. I also know that allowing him to be with a man is a regret in your family, which is why we have Elliot. We’ve made each another a promise and he kept it and stayed with me during the last eight years when I was in self-exile. I owe him that and I’ll never be able to repay him… and for that I’m forever in his debt. I won’t deny it, I won’t evade it. But this is his career, how could I just tell him to leave?”

“You always have a way with him. I don’t think I should worry myself with how you should convince him to leave.” Winifred raised her brow. “If you really think that you owe him, then you should make it up to him while he’s still alive. No parent likes to see their child being judged and criticized. He’s already had to confront extremists because of his sexuality. His past, for which he has taken responsibility, shouldn’t be used against him. If you really think you’re responsible, use your tricks. Convince him to leave.”

And with that, Winifred stood up, settled the baby into the blue and silver stroller and pulled up the canopy carefully. She had nothing else to say to Steve. She’d said everything she wanted to and anything more wouldn’t help her cause. She gathered her coat tight, pushed the stroller, and stretched out a hand to hail a cab.

Steve sat at the al fresco cafe, took a glance at his untouched food, and exhaled a sigh.

He’d never pulled any cheap tricks on Bucky. Bucky’s love for him was deep and profound, accumulated throughout the years.

And the Barneses were hoping that this love would eventually be squandered and exhausted.

 

X

 

“Rogers wants you to quit? How dare he?” Lydia placed her hands on Bucky’s cheeks in disbelief. “Oh my god, how much more must Rogers torture you for you to leave him? Family reasons my ass, he wants you to go to Hamburg and you must go. You’re working on a big case, it concerns the privilege of so many people in this city—”

“I promised him.” Bucky was carrying Elliot in his arms. The baby was staring at him with beautiful blue eyes. Bucky had grown some stubble after a night’s work. He lowered his head and tickled his son with his face, drawing shrieks and giggles from the boy. “That’s what partners do. We make promises, we keep our promises. If you were more like us, perhaps your third marriage would have lasted a little longer.”

“Why are we talking about me?” Lydia smoothed her bangs irritably. But everything was forgotten when her eyes met Elliot’s icy blues. Hurriedly, she took the baby from her brother. The moment he was in her arms, she was completely mesmerized by those blues eyes. “He belongs to us, right?”

“He belongs to Steve and me.” Bucky knitted his brows.

“We all know that the surrogate mother and the sperm was chosen randomly, but he definitely has your eyes.” Lydia planted a kiss on the baby’s porcelain cheek. “Gentle eyes.”

“Don’t get so cl—” Before Bucky could warn his sister, Elliot had already reached out his squishy little hand and pulled her long tresses.

“Ow, he even fights like you! You always pull my hair, Bucky.” Lydia wasn't at all angry. Slowly, bit by bit, she freed her hair from the baby’s palm. “What I’m saying is, you can’t always let Rogers lead you by the nose. He’s a selfish jerk. I’ve told you, not once did he ever refuse Julia and the next minute he says he likes you? It’s all bullshit! He even—”

“Don’t bring that up. You were very precise about McCartney last time. They weren't together, which means that I’ve always been on his mind.” Bucky undid the first button of his dress shirt and took off his tie. “I’ve heard about that beautiful girl. It’s a good thing because that’s what I wanted him to do. I have no reason to be mad.”

“We’ll always have your back, Bucky. Take the baby home, continue to be a judge. You like this job and, like you said, it’s for the good of the people and you’re doing a great job. You have the highest popularity and can serve another term. No matter how vivid those anonymous reports about you in rehab are, the people can see how fair you are on the bench.”

“My job isn’t just about me.” Bucky sighed. “I have a child, I have my partner. Whatever decision I make, I should consult them and discuss with them. That’s the way to solve problems. We had different opinions on my resignation, we talked about it, and he convinced me. It’s just that simple.”

“He’s always able to convince you, right?” mocked Lydia. “Too bad we can’t be convinced. Bucky, you can do better, as long as you get rid of Rogers, but you just won’t believe it.”

“I hope you finish with all these hurtful comments as soon as possible.” Bucky frowned as he spoke. “I hope you dispense with all this groundless speculation before my son starts to develop his memories. Don’t pass on all this unhappiness to my children. They don’t need to know your prejudice. What goes on between Steve and me belongs to Steve and me, whether you accept it or not.”

“Hamburg isn't Los Angeles, Bucky. It’s another country, another life style, another language. You’re going to be there with Rogers. If he locks himself up again, we can’t be with you this time.”

“I’ve always thought you were all glad when he locked himself up.” Bucky looked coldly askance at her. “I didn’t have to take him home for dinner, am I right?”

“I just want you to know that he has a record! You know that better than I do!” Unable to stomach her brother’s accusations, Lydia moved toward him and grabbed his hands. “What he did to you in the utility closet… I went to the ER with you. Should I go on?”

“I know my rights better than you do.” Bucky took his hands away from her and stood up. “Give me a hand and tuck Elliot in, will you?” He turned and clutched his left hand. It would throb with pain every now and then since rehab. Bucky was painfully and sharply aware that what Lydia had said could become real, but he couldn’t just get up and leave. He should have done that before Elliot was born.

And now he couldn’t walk away.

 

X

 

Elliot wouldn’t let Steve hold him. Every time Steve tried to take him to the park, just getting close to his crib would make the boy cry. It had been tried and tested. Several times Steve was positive that he was absolutely, definitely asleep, but when Steve had even the slightest thought of getting close to him, Elliot would immediately open his big eyes, round and wide.

Steve just wanted to hold Elliot for a bit. He never had a quiet moment to hold him since Elliot started to remember faces.

It was the same thing tonight. Steve was just touching his head and the little guy started to wail.

“Did you wake him up again?” Came Bucky’s voice from the bed. Before Steve could give him an answer, Bucky was already walking to the crib and took Elliot in his arms, coaxing him as he left the bedroom.

The miraculous thing was Elliot would quiet down in Bucky’s arms as the brunet walked around a bit. According to the pediatrician, Steve was giving the boy too much pressure. Steve’s eagerness to be close with Elliot made the boy anxious, unable to relax.

Steve suspected the pediatrician was Emily’s classmate or an actor hired from somewhere, all of them ganging up to mislead him.

“I only wanted to hold him.” Steve sighed as he walked over to Bucky. The brunet’s hair was longer now. He didn’t have time to tie it up, having just woken up, so he casually swept it behind his ears. Steve loved it when he did that. “He’s been in this world for eight months and I still can’t carry him in my arms, not even for a little while.”

“You know what the doctor said,” Bucky soothed him gently. “Don’t be nervous. He’s your son. Of course you can hold him. Just wait till he gets older, he’ll like you.”

“I’m not nervous at all. I look forward to it.” Steve looked at the baby who seemed to be sleeping even better on Bucky than he did in his own crib. He reached out a hand just to touch Elliot’s head a little and the baby opened his eyes wide instantly. Bucky had to believe the credibility of Steve’s words. “Your family must have had someone hypnotize him.”

For once, Bucky didn’t try to defend his family. He just lowered his head to kiss the baby, bouncing him ever so slightly.

“Don’t you have classes tomorrow?” Steve leaned in to kiss the back of Bucky’s neck. “Go back to sleep. I’ll move the crib to the nursery. Promise I won’t touch him.”

The next morning after Bucky had left the apartment for his classes, Steve went to the nursery and looked down at his eldest son.

“Maybe your last name shouldn’t be Barnes.” They had still been waiting for the ruling on same-sex marriage from the Supreme Court when deciding the last name for Elliot. Sarah had said she would respect Steve’s choice and she accepted Steve’s decision to let the baby take Bucky’s last name. It was settled that the name of their eldest son would be Elliot Joseph Barnes. The problem lay in taking Barnes as Elliot’s last name. It was like a curse that caused his eldest son to hate him since the day he was born.

And they had just moved to a new environment.

The art foundation had Steve’s works shipped to Hamburg from New York with care. Seeing the genuine display of sincerity from the foundation was the reason why Steve had agreed to have his works exhibited at three art galleries downtown. Getting ready for the exhibitions on the first month of their arrival was tedious. The curator had already flown to New York several times to discuss the details with Steve, but it was an entirely different situation on-site. And at the same time, Bucky had applied for a Master’s degree course in law and economy at the University of Hamburg, so the first month was indeed a chaotic mess.

The foundation had gotten them an apartment that wasn't far away from downtown and it was near the university as Bucky had required. Luckily for them, there was a qualified nanny in the building and Bucky was able to apply for a childcare subsidy because he was a student. So they didn’t have to worry about a childcare budget. With an office in which he could write his reports, Bucky only had to entrust the baby to the nanny when he had classes, while he still took care of Elliot himself the rest of the time.

Not long after they’d moved into the apartment building, their neighbors began to shower them with housewarming presents, mostly desserts.

Later the old lady next door heard about how Elliot refused to let Steve hold him, and she gave Steve a dwarf porcelain so that the baby’s bad temper would disappear, was what she told him. And Steve did as told. At least for now, he could be in the same room with the baby, but the mystical thing was once they left the room where the dwarf was, Elliot would still wail unforgivingly. But, to a certain extent, Steve could enjoy a quiet moment in the middle of the night when he got up to change Elliot’s diapers. And Bucky got to sleep till morning.

Natasha was straightforward with her disapproval when she came to visit them. “Just give him vodka. Anyone can carry him when he’s drunk.”

 

X

 

Max was an angel. In comparison to Elliot, who was old enough to get physical with Steve, Berlin-born Max was of course an angel. Max smiled at anyone, and he hardly cried at all. Even when Elliot pinched his cheeks red and swollen, baby Max only sobbed quietly. Bucky didn’t find out what had happened until he fed the baby.

As for two year old Elliot, at least he didn’t cry when Steve carried or hugged him now.

The couple took the children to the botanical garden for a picnic one weekend. Bucky spread out a huge blanket on the ground, Steve placed the basket in the middle of the blanket as he was about to put down Elliot, who had refused to walk earlier and had asked to be carried. Elliot saw the blanket on the ground, but when he saw Bucky picking Max up from the stroller out of the corner of his eyes, he suddenly clutched onto Steve’s shoulders tightly, refusing to come down.

Bucky settled Max on himself, not taking his eyes away as Max grinned at him and drooled on his collar.

Steve looked at Elliot, who was staring at Bucky with an obviously displeased expression, and he smirked when he suddenly understood what’s going on. With Elliot still in his arms, Steve sat down leisurely next to Bucky. The brunet turned to look at Steve and Elliot, freed a hand to smooth Elliot’s head, and smiled. “Elliot is a big brother now. Are you happy?”

Elliot creased his brows and buried his head into Steve’s chest.

“He’s jealous.” Steve remembered when they first came to Hamburg, Bucky’s chest had belonged to Elliot when they went for picnics. How could he not get jealous when it now belonged to someone else?

Max got tired of sitting and, with a plop, he laid himself on Bucky’s chest, tucking his lower jaws into Bucky’s collarbone and blinked at Bucky.

Bucky smiled. He rubbed gentle circles on Max’s back, engaging the baby with soft whispers.

Elliot craned his neck to look at the baby laying on Bucky on his stomach. Nose scrunched, brows knitted. Steve had enough experience to know what that expression meant: Elliot was going to cry. “Elliot, hey, buddy… baby…” Comforting Elliot in a hushed tone, Steve’s attempt to pacify Elliot didn’t seem to work and even he was now frowning. “Just don’t…”

He then noticed Bucky waving his hand, tapping on his own stomach, so Steve put Elliot down on Bucky’s stomach. Sitting slightly behind Max where the baby was lying, Elliot fully displayed his superiority for being a year older than his brother. He stretched out his little hands and attempted to push Max down. Steve was quick enough to pick up Max before anything happened, but lacking experience in holding a baby since he didn’t have much opportunity to carry Elliot, Steve was very much acting with a flurry of confusion.

Bucky sat up and helped Steve hold the baby properly. At this moment, sliding down to his father’s legs from his stomach, Elliot turned around and had his back to Bucky and laid down on Bucky with his face up. Following his son’s movements, Bucky laid down and Elliot giggled with glee as he found himself flat on his back on his father’s stomach.

Meanwhile, Max was nestled on Steve’s chest, fast asleep.

Steve picked up a sandwich from the picnic basket and gave it to Bucky. Earlier on, the blond had been given the task of cutting the sandwiches and he'd managed to cut the squarish bread into triangles of different sizes. The filling was a blended mixture of pumpkin puree, chopped ham, and diced tomatoes. Bucky had made the sandwich after considering what Elliot could eat. Elliot liked to mimic their actions now and he wanted a taste of whatever they ate.

Right now Elliot was staring at the two men. Steve had scooped up a spoonful of pumpkin puree from the sandwich and put it to Elliot’s lips. After a moment, Elliot opened his mouth and ate the pumpkin puree quietly. Happy with his success, Steve took big mouthfuls and finished the rest of the sandwich.

Some day after the picnic, Steve had the vague feeling of someone planting warm kisses on his cheeks in his sleep. Bucky seldom gave him such special treatment. Steve opened his eyes the second time it happened and found his eldest son’s face next to his as the boy tried to kiss him with effort.

This was the first time Steve had been given a morning kiss by Elliot. For the first time, from the bottom of his heart, Steve was grateful to Mrs. Barnes for her insistence that he take Bucky to Hamburg with him. If he was surrounded by the Barneses, his son would probably murder him when he was three.

When Steve sat up, Elliot slid down from the bed, walked to his leg and held it, struggling to let Steve hug him.

“Hug, daddy, hug.”

Steve smiled and carried his son up to sit on his lap. He was going to meet a charity organization from Hamburg today. They were planning an art event for summer and since the art foundation that invited Steve to Hamburg was the main sponsor, they’d also invited him to participate in the event. Essentially, the purpose of the event was to make art more accessible to the public at a reasonable price. Some artists who were more prominent than Steve had also provided their artwork for display.

Steve had initially made a round shield using metal. The material had been provided by old Stark. Steve had painted the shield red, blue, and white with a star in the center. All symbolic of the American flag and it reflected his anti-war perspective. He intended to display the shield at the exhibition, also.

“Elliot, give me back my Lincoln statue.” Very gently, Steve extracted the statue from the hands of his eldest son. The statue was a miniature version of the one sitting in DC and, after intricate scanning, Stark had used the latest techniques and printed it out in 3D. Stark promised him that even all the flaws had been printed out. He'd given Steve about twenty copies of the mini statue, all of which were now scattered in every corner of the apartment.

So Elliot immediately went and took another one. Steve only needed to use one to put it in a plastic box to reconstruct the projection effect presented in DC and so the rest were now Elliot’s toys.

Elliot very quickly demonstrated his destructive ability as Steve witnessed him hitting the mini statue with fervor using Max’s milk bottle.

Picking Elliot up, Steve tucked him between his arms and waist, and held the boy’s armpit to play Superman. It was until Elliot had had enough that Steve put him down.

When Steve finally made a round of the apartment, he realized the children’s other father wasn’t home. Due to the fact Elliot had hidden the message in a corner in the apartment, Steve managed to find the post-it note with Bucky’s handwriting tucked between the crevice of the fridge and the cabinet. On it was a simple message that the brunet was out for a discussion about his report and would be home later.

But Steve had a meeting to attend. They hadn’t made an appointment with the nanny today and Steve couldn’t wait for Bucky any longer. So he wrote a message saying he was taking the boys out and stuck it on the fridge.

When he turned around he saw Elliot walking by with a conspiring grin on his face and a fork in his hand. With a bad feeling, Steve rushed into the nursery room to have a look. Luckily, the target of the fork was Max’s favorite teddy bear. But it was Captain America bear, Steve sighed ruefully. Seemed like Emily had to get a new one for Max.

He helped Max change into his outing clothes, put the yellow bag that contained everything the boys needed under the stroller, and settled Max into the seat. Steve was all ready to go except for one thing.

His eldest son. He searched around the apartment for Elliot and when he found the boy attacking his toys crazily with the fork, Steve wondered if he'd been watching some horror program on TV. Taking away the fork, Steve picked up his little master and made sure that his clothes were okay for going out. Next he took out a pair of shoes from the cabinet and put them on for Elliot.

He was hoping Bucky would make it home before they left the apartment, but the father and son trio was finally going out together.

When he'd locked the door, Steve pushed the stroller and looked at Elliot in his arms. “Wanna go out and play?”

Holding the new toy he’d just acquired—Steve’s ID pass—Elliot waved happily and said, “Yeah!”

 

X

 

When Bucky returned, he was astonished to find that his three boys weren't home. Steve had never taken the boys out together. It was common for Steve to take Max out in the baby’s stroller. He probably wanted to compensate for the disappointment that Elliot didn’t like going out alone with him. As for Elliot, even when he was finally able to recognize the fact that Steve was his father, not someone he should attack, the fluctuation of emotions was still intense when the two of them were in the same space.

Last Christmas, Bucky’s family had flown to Germany to visit them. His mother was whispering something to Steve and Bucky overheard a few words when he walked behind them. Whatever it was, if his mother was grateful for anything Steve had done, Bucky considered it a good thing. As for his father, the older man was so totally in love with baby Max that he didn’t have time to scrutinize Steve. But Bucky’s two sisters were still enthusiastic in teaching Elliot how to attack Steve. For example, when Elliot, with his wobbly steps, hit Steve with whatever he was holding in his hand, the girls would cheer and pick up Elliot and praise him vigorously. It had taken Steve another week to stop Elliot from attacking him.

On the post-it note was Steve’s neat handwriting, informing Bucky about the venue of his meeting and two words: don’t worry.

Bucky dug out his wallet from the backpack he’d just put down and slid it into his pocket. With the note and his cell phone in hand, he left the apartment.

They’d been here for almost two years and at that particular moment, Bucky suddenly felt this was good. Living in Hamburg was good.

Steve had more time to communicate and exchange ideas with other artists. Not that they were friends that went out together; but having people to work with, to talk to about their creations, was so much better than being alone in the apartment. It was like going back to Steve’s time at the SVA. He used to work with young artists back then.

Steve’s artwork was mostly sculpture using different media and most of the time multimedia elements were involved. After arriving in Hamburg, Steve began to concentrate more on traditional stone sculpture. The foundation had rented a small studio for him and when Steve wasn’t at home, he was usually within the premises of the studio. But because there was too much equipment in there, he never allowed the children inside the studio.

When he arrived at the building where the studio was, Bucky pushed open the door to the lobby and saw several familiar staff members nodding at him.

Carson, who took care of all the miscellaneous tasks for Steve, was there and he walked over to Bucky with a smile. “I saw the kids just now. Max is so adorable. How old is he? Eight months old?”

Bucky nodded and replied, smiling, “Yeah, do you know where they are?”

“They’re in the conference room. Elliot loves the long table in there.”

Shaking his head slightly, Bucky sighed ruefully. “I only forgot to tell him not to do anything stupid before I got back.”

When he entered the conference room, the situation wasn't as bad as he’d imagined, but then it also wasn’t too far from that.

Max was sleeping deeply as usual, and Elliot? Elliot was how he behaved at home. Unheeding of others, he rolled on the table, then trundled along the side of the table and deposited himself onto Steve’s chest. Steve was in the meeting with his usual calm composure; he took the boy, who had just dropped onto him, calmly and reached out a free hand to stroke Elliot’s hair.

Steve loved to mess with people’s hair.

The door to the conference room was opened, Bucky waved a hand at the person talking on stage and walked to Steve and Elliot. Upon seeing him, Elliot’s face split into a wide grin and called out without warning, “Mommy!”

The low voices of discussion in the conference room came to a dead silence. Bucky’s brows were in a tight knot while Steve’s eyes were wide as saucers.

For the last three months, Steve had been teaching his son to call Bucky mommy. It was a stupid game and Steve hadn’t even been serious in his endeavor, only teaching Elliot to call Bucky that when the brunet was asleep. He hadn't been very successful. That is, until now. Elliot chose to do it in this conference room, in front of Steve’s associates and a very much awake Bucky, with a voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

Steve could have sworn that he’d heard Elliot called Bucky daddy when he woke up this morning.

“Elliot, come on. Time for snacks.” Brows still knotted, Bucky took the boy from Steve without interruption.

Steve knew Bucky must have been very mad because the brunet didn’t even give him a deadly stare.

After the meeting, he found Bucky spoon feeding Elliot a smoothie on the bench outside the building. Pushing the stroller to them, Steve sighed and sat down. “I’m really sorry, Bucky. That was stupid. I was only fooling around with him.”

Bucky stopped the feeding and looked at him. “I’m not mad. No one would take the word of a child seriously.”

Steve stared fixedly at Bucky. Even if the brunet had been mad, he was indeed not mad now. Bucky may have been the bottom in this relationship, but Steve had never treated him like a woman, Bucky knew that. If Steve had said that out loud, he would be humiliating Bucky’s judgement; but he needed Bucky to know that it was an honest mistake. “I never wish for you to be a woman. Ever. Bucky, I want you and I fully understand you’re a man. I really do.”

“I know.” Bucky handed him the spoon and patted his thigh, motioning Elliot to climb up and sit there himself. Steve took the spoon and took over the job of feeding Elliot. He looked at Bucky a few more times before proceeding to feed Elliot the smoothie in the bowl.

“I love you.” Steve fed Elliot as he looked at the brunet behind Elliot. “Bucky…”

“I know.” Not letting the blond say anything more, Buck leaned forward to plant a kiss on Steve’s forehead. “Next time, wait for me to come home, okay? Don’t bring the children here. It’s an enclosed environment and there’re so many adults. Kids get sick easily.”

“Okay.” Steve returned his kiss. Sandwiched between them, Elliot tried to push Steve away without avail.

Sensing the force, Steve lowered his head and fixed his eyes on Elliot’s.

“So, your daddy can kiss me, but I can’t kiss your daddy. Is that how it is?”

Elliot grabbed Bucky’s collar and, as if marking his territory, kissed the same spot where Steve had just kissed. “I love you, Mommy.”

“I love you, too, but this has got to stop.” Bucky smiled as he carried the boy to the front and pressed their foreheads together. “I’m your daddy. Your mommy is in America. We’ll take you to visit her when you get older.”

Pepper had chosen three egg donors for them. They each had different education levels, but all three were very healthy. One of them was a professional tennis player, and the other two were a businesswoman and a writer. They had different hair and eye colors, and different reasons for donating their eggs. Two had simply been inspired by Pepper, while the frozen eggs of the other woman were going to expire. So, rather than termination, Steve and Bucky had the eggs. Which was why Steve was always teasing Elliot, calling him the little Winter Soldier because he was frozen for five years when he was still an egg.

There was no concern about expiring eggs with the next two children, and so they chose randomly from the other two donors.

As for the sperm, they hadn't let the medical personnel mark down specifically which was whose after supplying. They weren’t going to check who was the father because it wasn’t important to them and it wasn’t their main concern. Bucky was fine even if they adopted, but Steve thought Mr. and Mrs. Barnes should be appeased.

They found out on Elliot’s third birthday that the third child they’d been hoping for was a month old in the surrogate mother’s body.

It was around that time that George Barnes wanted Steve to bring them back to the States.

 

X

 

“I never liked you, Steve,”

Steve nodded. George Barnes never forgot to remind him of that. “I can understand, Mr. Barnes.”

“But Bucky loves you very much. Even when you weren’t like a man.”

Steve still nodded, even though he was very confident of his strength and stamina. If he could bend metal strips with his bare hands, he had no reason to be afraid of George Barnes, a vet with years of experience in security work.

“In my opinion, you didn’t look a bit like a man before. Skinny as a monkey and short.”

Steve nodded mechanically. If it wasn't for the fact that George Barnes would get mad if he didn’t get a reaction, Steve would have rather not nodded. But he adjusted his line of sight to Bucky, who was standing at a distance with Claudia in his arms and showing the baby to Lydia. He could take it.

“James, on the other hand, is so much more perfect than you.”

And that Steve could agree with from the bottom of his heart. “That’s always been true. I never forget that.”

“But I know my son.”

Steve turned his gaze to the man. The senior Barnes was deliberating something, his expression one of extreme tolerance. Steve thought he might not want to hear what he had to say next. Apart from Lionel, who had not only asked him to go and die, but had also threatened to kill him, Steve was positive he was on George’s kill list.

But the man just exhaled a long sigh and, as if he’d aged suddenly, sagged in the chair.

“Fred told me how you had convinced Bucky to resign and now you’ve taken him and the children back to the States. For that I’m grateful to you.”

“It’s nothing,” replied Steve slowly. “I’m just doing what I should do, Mr. Barnes.”

“Call me George, son. We’re family after all.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rape/non-con tag applies to chapter three. If you're bothered by this, here is where we say good-bye to the Barnes-Rogers household.


	3. Epilogue Two: In New York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As mentioned in the last chapter, the rape/non-con tag applies to this chapter. Steve was in a bad place. Really bad.

As far as Bucky could recall, Steve had encountered three life and death moments in his life. Bucky was there all three times to save him, protect him, and take care of him. Bucky was plaintive, but like his mother had told him, he had fallen into the rabbit hole that was Rogers. Down and down. Never ending.

The first time was at the public swimming pool. Steve was eleven, Bucky twelve. Steve had cramps in the water and almost drowned. Bucky had dived into the water to scoop him up. Later, a lifeguard noticed them and gave them further assistance. Steve had swallowed a couple mouthfuls of water, but there was no substantial injury. However, if Bucky hadn't found him in time, Steve could have been dead and gone.

“Bucky, you can’t tell my ma.” Walking on the sidewalk, Steve kicked the pebbles on the ground listlessly.

“Why not?” Bucky glared at the boy slightly shorter than him. “You need a doctor.”

“No, I don’t.” Steve sighed. “The doctor would want me hospitalized. I don’t wanna miss your game.”

“I can always show you if you wanna watch me shoot.” Bucky patted his shoulder. “What if your trachea is hurt? You get coughs easily. What if it got worse? What if—”

“Don’t tell her.” Steve shifted his shoulder to shake off Bucky’s hand. “Promise me you won’t tell her.”

Bucky bit his lower lip. Steve lifted his head to see his face drawn tight, his teeth bitting so hard that tiny lines of blood were decorating his lip.

Steve sighed. “Whatever.” He took a few steps forward and kicked another small pebble.

Bucky caught up with him, pulled his shoulders, and said softly, “Okay, okay, I won’t.” Then his hands gripped Steve’s shoulders for a long moment. “But don’t you ever run away from me.”

Steve glanced at the hands on his shoulders. He had no idea what Bucky meant, but he nodded.

In comparison to Steve’s request to conceal the drowning incident, Bucky was more concerned that Steve wouldn’t like him. Bucky wanted Steve to like him. They were friends, the best ones. Even when they got into shouting matches or had different opinions, Steve didn't hate him. But when the loathing and disgust were so obvious, Bucky felt hurt, lost and confused like a puppy that had been dumped.

Seeing Steve’s nod, Bucky removed his hands from the blond’s shoulders slowly.

“Should I stay over tonight?” asked Bucky softly. “Someone can take care of you if you have a fever. Sarah’s working graveyard tonight, right?”

“But what are you gonna tell your mum and dad?” Steve lifted the bag that was slipping from his shoulders. “Didn’t your mum say she won’t let you stay over unless it’s a weekend?”

Bucky shook his head. “It’s fine. Even if I come over, it’ll take them some time to find out. They can’t do anything with me by then.” Only Rosalind was at home now. Their nanny was taking care of his younger siblings. By the time Rosalind was able to tell her employers in English that Bucky was staying over at Steve’s apartment, it would be the next morning, and Bucky and Steve would have gone to school.

This time when Bucky spent the night, he and Steve were lying on the big couch in the living room.

They used to sleep on the bookshelf and the couch separately. This was the first time they were lying together. It was also the first time that Steve realized how loud his heartbeat was in the middle of the night. It roared like thunder, thumping in his eardrums. He saw how Bucky bit his lips. He didn’t understand why, but he nodded in agreement to Bucky’s request subconsciously.

Just like Bucky was willing to give in to him, Steve was also willing to concede to any of Bucky’s requests. However unreasonable the request was, he would allow it unconditionally. The fact that it was Bucky was a good enough reason.

Steve thought they'd probably liked each other back then. How nice it would have been if he had kissed Bucky then. He was so cute.

The second occasion was a little complicated. Bucky didn’t think about it often except every now and then at the dinning table of the Barneses. Lydia, the only person who knew the story, would speak with an undertone: she could tolerate all sorts of men, but she won’t put up with a man who got violent with her. She would look at her brother as she spoke. Bucky was sitting on the other side of the table, calm and gathered, undeterred by the implication of her words.

Steve hadn't entirely stayed in the utility closet at the beginning. He still came out for his meals, only he would play with the food on his plate with his fork and knife repeatedly without saying a word. Ultimately, he would gobble his food with lightning speed, giving the impression that he either hated the plate of food, or the people at the table.

Bucky thought Steve might be in a bad mood and, whether or not he was unhappy with Bucky, they couldn’t talk it out. Work at the firm was hectic and Bucky worked like a dog every day. If it weren’t for the fact that he checked the food in the fridge every day—be it the pizza he’d ordered the other night, or the meatball spaghetti he made when he was free—and found the food diminishing at a constant speed, Bucky would have had thought Steve wasn't eating at all.

At first, Bucky didn’t understand why Steve chose to stay in the utility closet. The first couple of times he went in and Steve chased him out with a bellow of rage and slammed the door. He didn’t know what that was about. Were they fighting? The height difference between Bucky and Steve was about an inch or so. Although Bucky wasn't as strong as Steve, if they had a real fight, Bucky didn’t think he would lose.

He just didn’t think he’d have to do it one day.

What happened that day began with Bucky’s attempt to enter the utility closet. The door of the utility closet couldn’t be locked, and even after the incident, Bucky still didn't agree with Lydia and Rumlow’s suggestion to lock the room from outside. Rumlow was Lydia’s third husband and he was a detective. Since Bucky refused to check himself into a hospital and disagreed with Lydia’s request to make a police report, Lydia had asked her husband to come and write down a testimony of, according to Bucky, their violent sex.

Bucky just wanted to know if Steve had been doing well the last two days. He himself had been stuck in the office for twenty hours. He was dog-tired when he got home but he still went to check on Steve after a quick shower.

Steve asked him to leave, which wasn’t news, and it wasn’t the first time. Bucky sighed and pushed the door to enter.

The man he loved deeply was on the floor, curled up in a ball. He growled like a trapped animal when he heard Bucky coming in. He’d seen this before, thought Bucky. Still not news and still not scaring him.

So he walked toward Steve and stooped down to check on him. Eyes tightly closed, Steve refused to communicate with him. His beard had grown longer. If it weren’t for winter, the smell of not having showered for days would have been overwhelming. Fortunately, Steve was as tired as Bucky had been for the last couple of days, and had taken a shower.

Steve pushed Bucky away when he touched him.

Just like when we were fifteen or sixteen, Bucky sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to let things come to a head with Steve. He looked Steve from head to toe, made sure that he was okay and alive like a human being, and Bucky could go back to work feeling rested and assured.

When he was about to leave, Steve said, “Don’t come here again.”

Bucky arched his brows, but Steve probably didn’t see that. One hand on the door knob, Bucky turned and said, “I recall that I pay for renting this room.” In fact, he was paying for everything now. “I can come here as and when I please.”

Days of exhaustion, this shitty thing about Steve hiding in the utility closet, his father asking him when was he going to break up with Steve and go back to being his normal and exceptional son, and that attorney he was working for, and the attorney’s persistent daughter who wanted to marry Bucky, everyone was driving him crazy, simmering with rage.

“If you could leave this room, why would I even have to come here?” Bucky walked back to Steve, glaring down at him. “If you were willing to come out and live like an actual human being instead of an animal trapped in a cage, why would I have to come in here?”

Steve opened his eyes and looked up at him. “Very good, Bucky. You’re finally telling the truth.”

The truth? “What do you mean?” Bucky crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t like the way you’re saying it.”

“Whatever,” Steve replied coldly. “There are so many things you don’t like. Do you expect me to change everything?”

Bucky took a deep breath. “Steve Rogers, you’re not gonna like the direction this conversation is heading. I’m giving you one last chance to end this and leave the utility room immediately.”

“Nobody asked you to come here. You can leave.” Steve closed his eyes. “Or, don’t even think about leaving.”

Bucky didn’t take the threat seriously at all. Steve may have been tall and strong, but deep inside Bucky’s heart, he was still the skinny kid who needed Bucky’s protection, the skinny kid who couldn't win against Bucky in a fight.

With that in mind, Bucky answered with disdain, “Really? I’d like to see you try.”

That was the beginning of the tragedy.

First of all, Bucky didn’t have enough strength at that time. He hadn't been exercising regularly for quite a while and he didn’t have time to run in the morning. Whether Steve did any sit-ups or push-ups in the utility closet, Bucky hadn’t the slightest idea, but at least Steve didn’t have to work for almost twenty hours without a wink. So when Steve stood up and grabbed his arms, Bucky didn’t dodge or shake him off.

Like a rabbit caught by an eagle, he couldn’t move at all.

Lydia said that was because Steve had no intention of letting Bucky free himself. The act wasn't a warning of his anger to Bucky, it was a prelude to immediate violence.

“You want me to give it a try?” Steve threw him against the wall, hands pressing tight on his resisting hands. Steve had trapped Bucky between him and the wall. Next he pushed Bucky face down on the floor, sat on his legs and tore his clothes. Bucky struggled to get up and Steve pulled his arms behind him and entrapped him further by twisting his torn clothes around his wrists.

The next thing Bucky remembered was the coolness of the floor as his clothes had been torn off, and the burn of something huge pushing into him from behind.

It hurt. So much.

Bucky wasn't sure if he was afraid, but tears poured from his eyes uncontrollably, and sobs slipped from his lips.

He wanted Steve to stop, maybe he did tell him to stop, but Steve didn’t let him go.

“Steve…” He didn’t know why, but Bucky felt the only person who could save him was still Steve, as if the man raping him was another man, not the lover whom he loved deeply. “Please, let me go…”

“Never.” Steve lowered his body, thrusting his erection harder into Bucky. He wrapped hands around Bucky’s waist like two huge cobras, encircling the brunet, leaving him no space to struggle. With every thrust, Steve plunged viciously into the deepest part of Bucky’s body.

Steve. Only Bucky could hear his own cries for help. In his heart. Whatever left his lips only became pain. “… hnng… don’t… please… it hurts…”

Soon enough, the blood in his channel and Steve’s cum elicited from the tightness inside numbed Bucky. Steve didn’t stop. He plunged into Bucky brutally, using him like a tool for his desire. He didn’t pull out until he came inside him.

Steve panted heavily after reaching his orgasm. Under him, Bucky’s crack was smeared with a mixture of blood and semen, while his cheeks were scratched by Steve’s zipper. The injury to his entrance was an even more appalling sight. It was bleeding. Laceration caused by repeated pulling of the muscles. Bucky had stopped making any sounds half way through. If not for his attempt to adjust his shaky breathing, Steve wouldn’t know if he was still awake or if he had passed out.

After a while, Bucky struggled to get up. His hands were tied, so he had to turn himself sideways painfully and the action forced him to look at the man who had violated him. At that moment, Bucky thought this was the end of everything. Him and Steve, the man who raped him. There was nothing else to say. He’d had enough. That was it.

“I hope…” Repressing his emotions, he spoke with a sob, “… you’re satisfied with this outcome, Rogers, or… you enjoyed the process… because that’s not what I wanted.”

Steve was shaking, probably with the realization of what he had done. Bucky wasn't interested in knowing. He moved backward and stood up by holding himself against the wall. Fluids dripped down from behind. When he was getting near to the door, Steve walked over and held him tightly, planting kisses on his neck and his back.

“I’m sorry… Bucky. I’m really sorry…”

Bucky closed his eyes. The apology was directed at him, but he couldn’t feel the remorse in it.

“Save it for yourself.” Bucky wrestled to free himself, but the other man refused to let go. The arms tightened, and the strength of his arms was even greater than when they were wrapped around his waist earlier on. “Let me go. I have to leave. I need a doctor…”

Steve’s reaction was violent, provoked by either the word ‘doctor’ or ‘leave.’ He grabbed Bucky ruthlessly.

Next thing he knew, Bucky found himself pushed down on the floor. This time he didn’t give up struggling and used his free legs to kick Steve on the knees with force. Steve bent over with pain, but his hands still grabbed hold of Bucky’s kicking legs with efficiency: one hand on his ankle and the other on his knee. Steve pinned down Bucky’s legs, put himself between them and leaned over to touch Bucky’s face.

Bucky bit Steve’s hand angrily while he struggled with his unrestrained left leg, trying to free himself from Steve.

Steve was kicked several times and his fingers were bleeding, but he still didn't let go.

On the contrary, he entered Bucky again, making do with the blood and his own semen from before, thrusting slowly but steadily.

Bucky panted with difficulty. His entrance was filled with extreme pain each time Steve plunged into him. Steve’s size, even after thorough lubrication, was enormous; Bucky would have been hurt if they didn’t spend some time on foreplay, allowing Steve to carefully lube him up from the inside out.

But this time Steve had practically hacked his way inside Bucky. It was a bloody mess.

Kissing Bucky’s collar bone, Steve’s bloody hand held down the brunet’s wrestling shoulders as he continued to thrust.

At first Bucky bit his lower lip and glared at Steve; but now he only stared at the ceiling with empty eyes, breathing shallowly.

Steve still came inside him a second time. By the third time, Bucky had ceased his struggles and Steve settled the brunet on his lap. This position had always been Bucky’s favorite when they started having sex at seventeen, eighteen years old. He was the one being penetrated, but this position allowed him to envelop Steve in his arms completely, as if everything about Steve belonged to him.

Steve wanted to kiss him, but Bucky’s lips were tightly closed.

When the third time was done, Steve still didn’t let go of him. He held him in his arms, drawing circles on his back, whispering quiet I-love-yous in his ear; but Bucky didn’t believe a single word. He'd lost track of time. The night had probably ended but there were no lights in the utility closet and he couldn’t determine if these three tours into hell were coming to an end.

Very slowly, Steve opened his mouth. “Bucky, I’m so sorry…”

Bucky thought any reply from him would humiliate himself, so he kept quiet and said nothing.

“But don’t say you’re leaving me, okay?” Steve continued with a sob. “Don’t leave me. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I need you. I really need you. Only you can help me. Please, don’t leave me…”

He struggled to free himself from Steve’s embrace, but the blond refused to let go.

And then the fourth time.

Before it happened, Steve took off his shirt to carefully wipe away the murky fluids and blood between Bucky’s thighs. Then Steve took off his jeans and kissed the span of skin between Bucky’s neck and shoulders with reverence. He wrapped Bucky in his arms and massaged his entrance gently and it bled again. Steve took out his finger and crouched down to take Bucky in his mouth, sucking and swallowing deeply. But Bucky couldn't care less. Maybe he had an erection and came and some of those fluids were shoved into his body, but he felt nothing.

Bucky later learned from the doctor that this situation was called dissociation: his mind had separated from his body.

The level of pain and suffering went down a lot on the fourth time. It could have been the dissociation, it could also have been the better-than-nothing lubrication. When Steve finally unloaded himself on Bucky’s stomach, Bucky had already passed out. Maybe he thought Bucky was asleep, or he thought he should let him leave. In any case, Steve finally slackened his arms and released him.

When Steve woke up, the door of the utility closet was open. There was no one in the apartment. Steve returned back inside the closet, living a life alone in hell, just like he wanted.

He was convinced Bucky wasn't coming back and he would probably end up in jail. He had committed a crime and he wasn't asking for forgiveness.

He collapsed on the floor of the utility closet and waited for his retribution.

But retribution never came. One week later, Bucky came back.

After spending three days in the hospital, Bucky went back to work. From his parents’ apartment. He refused to let Lydia tell them what happened, only that he had a fight with Steve and needed to come over for a couple of days for both of them to clear their heads.

His parents tried to persuade him not to move back. Bucky didn’t say anything. He was glad that Lionel was on tour in Iraq because he would have been relentless if he didn’t know the reason. When he got his answer, he would risk the death penalty to kill Steve.

Reluctant to burden his youngest sister with worry, Bucky didn’t let Lydia tell Emily the entire story, either. Up until then—with the exception of Steve, Bucky, and Lydia—no one in the family knew exactly what had happened. And for that reason, Lydia still refused to accept Steve as a part of the family. On Elliot’s seventh birthday, when Steve announced that he and Bucky would be expecting their fourth child, Lydia finally decided that enough was enough and she confronted Bucky.

And Bucky only replied that he’d made his choice. He chose to forgive what had happened and he would never bring it up.

Forgiveness didn't come easily as Bucky recalled the entire process; but Steve had asked him for help. If Steve needed help, Bucky was willing to help him; but Bucky didn’t want to love him anymore. All those years had been enough.

What happened that night was enough.

“Why did you come back?” Steve buried his head in his hands and asked with anguish. He remembered the pain he’d inflicted on Bucky, he also remembered how heartbroken and despairing Bucky was. He’d sworn that he wouldn’t let Bucky suffer anymore because Bucky didn’t deserve any misery after being tortured for two years because of his love for Steve. But Steve had broken his promise.

Bucky left the door of the utility closet open. Easy for escape, keeping more than one arm’s length from Steve so that he wouldn’t be grabbed. The room wasn’t big. That was the farthest distance he could keep.

“You asked for my help.” Bucky tried his utmost to make his voice sound normal. He looked at Steve, keeping a tight rein on his emotions, trying not to shake from anger or pain. “And I will help you. You really need help, I can see that.”

Bucky continued to go to work and prepare simple meals to put outside the utility closet for Steve. The blond didn't come out from the space at all. For a period of time, Steve refused to eat anything. He didn’t drink any water. Bucky poured away the bottles of water, threw away the stale food. He made a bowl of light vegetable soup and took it inside for Steve.

It was about one month after the incident, five or six days after Steve tried to starve himself to death. Steve hadn't had a drop of water.

Steve was lying sideways on the floor when Bucky sat down next to him and tapped his shoulder.

Steve turned his head slowly to look at him and didn’t say a word.

Bucky managed to squeeze out a smile and touched Steve’s cheekbone. “Sweetheart. Eat some, please?”

Steve didn't reply. He turned his head and closed his eyes.

Bucky refused to give up. Fighting back his fear, he sat closer to Steve and settled his head on the blond’s shoulder.

Steve shifted his body a little, leaving Bucky’s head hanging in the air. Enraged, Bucky grabbed his shoulders. “You promised you won’t desert me. Why aren’t you keeping your promise?”

That was a long time ago. A promised made a long time ago.

Steve turned around and replied with strain, “…give me Lionel’s rifle. Let me end myself…”

Bucky furrowed his brows.

“You’d be free. Won’t that be great?” Steve managed a grin. “Lydia said your boss’ daughter likes you and went to visit you at the hospital. I think maybe it’s time. I live like… like a useless loser. You deserve a better partner… have lots of kids… grow old—”

Bucky yelled at him furiously, “No, Steve! Not without you!”

Bucky threatened to do the same if Steve continued to go on without any food or drink, and the latter finally agreed to start over with him, beginning with that bowl of vegetable soup.

Lydia considered Steve’s threat to die a despicable farce, but Bucky thought he was the only one qualified to assess whether or not Steve was determined to die. Steve had lost a lot of weight. He’d hardly eaten that entire year. If Bucky hadn't come in to take care of him whenever he was free, Steve would have probably made preparations to end himself at any time.

Another year went by and Steve was talking less and less. The shrink concluded from Bucky’s description that the situation was not optimistic and reminded Bucky to pay more attention to Steve and lock away all the sharp instruments or anything that could cause death. Fortunately, Steve was probably too weak to even kill himself by driving his head into the wall.

One day, out of the blue, Steve asked Bucky not to leave the utility closet and spend the night with him.

Bucky agreed. Steve said he just wanted to hug him. Even though he was afraid, Bucky didn’t want Steve's condition to get any worse, so he complied to his wishes and let the blond hold him from behind for the rest of the night. Bucky didn’t keep track of the days as he continued to spend the night with Steve every once in a while. One day, when Steve kissed the back of his neck tentatively, Bucky didn't refuse him. He turned around and tried to accept Steve little by little.

But they would never regain the intimacy they had shared before.

When the deed was done, Bucky couldn’t stand being with Steve for too long. Even within the space of the utility closet, he would choose to sit down in the corner, separating himself from Steve. He started to smoke, hoping to numb himself and disintegrate his fear because he couldn’t bear that smell of sex in the air.

Living in Germany was probably the crucial point of their recovery. Steve spent a lot of time kissing him, so much so that sometimes Bucky would get embarrassed and tried to dodge, but Steve wouldn’t have it. Steve would also hold him for an entire day without talking, as if he just wanted to make sure that Bucky was still alive, breathing with him. When he wasn’t working on his artwork, Steve would take the baby to University of Hamburg to wait for Bucky. The moment he walked out of the building, Steve would push the stroller over and hug him and kiss him.

Which was why Bucky’s classmates knew he had a partner who loved him very much.

By and by Bucky accepted Steve to be the closest person in his life again; but he would never forget how Steve had hurt him before. Just as he had told Lydia: he only learned how to forgive.

The other reason for Bucky’s reluctance to return to the States was that they could see themselves starting anew in Hamburg, and the shadows of the past would haunt them if they went back. But Steve spent a lot of time looking through all the material sent by realtors, took him to see several apartments, and eventually they decided to settle down in one gorgeous apartment with ample sunlight and the utilities sealed in the walls.

Little by little, Bucky finally believed there might be more to be offered by his country, not just shadows of an emotional past.

The third time a life and death situation happened to Steve, it was due to an allergy. Ever since he had grown taller and stronger, people seemed to forget that Steve had several allergies when he was a kid. But allergies didn’t heal themselves. While pathological allergies may be cured, physiological ones stayed with you. It all happened when Elliot took home a Maine Coon that belonged to their neighbor upstairs. The cat had a run around their apartment and disappeared until Bucky came home from work to find the cat lying on the bed in the master bedroom.

Bucky took Elliot upstairs with him to return the cat.

Steve returned from his studio, freshened up a bit, and laid in bed for some shut eye. Fifteen minutes later, he couldn’t get fresh air into his lungs. His throat and respiratory tract were tight, and the muscles of his body were taut. He tried to reach for his cell phone to call for help, but he couldn’t reach for the phone on the side table.

Luckily, Bucky came back to the room and quickly called for 911. He asked their neighbor to take care of the children and went to the hospital with the ambulance.

The next day, Emily took Elliot and Max to see Steve. Claudia was two and Harper was just one month old, both too young to visit.

Emily chided Steve that he didn’t need to be hospitalized, and as usual, Bucky fussed over everything when it came to Steve.

Elliot climbed up the bed unhappily and looked at Steve, who was resting his head on Bucky’s chest, pretending to be asleep. Elliot knew that when his daddy smiled in his sleep, he was only pretending, and so, with a frown, he simply sandwiched himself in between the two men. Bucky pulled him out and said with a serious tone, “Did I not tell you no cats allowed in the apartment? You should apologize to daddy.”

“No!” Elliot replied angrily.

Bucky sighed. “No lunch for you unless you apologize.”

“I want a cat!” Elliot pouted and grabbed his father’s shirt indignantly. Bucky had been wearing the same shirt since he got home yesterday. It was already crumpled and Elliot’s tight grab only made it worse. “I don’t care. You only like daddy. I want a cat. I want a cat that only likes me.”

Bucky didn’t understand what the boy meant. He lifted his head to look at Emily. Emily looked at Max, and Max looked at Elliot with his head tilted.

Bucky had changed his position when he was lecturing Elliot and now Steve was back to lying down in bed. The blond chose this moment to open his eyes and he stretched out a hand to pet Elliot’s head. “Your daddies are not really cats, silly boy.”

What happened was, in order to dilute the importance of Harry Potter in Elliot’s mind, Steve had told the boy a fairy tale in which Bucky was a brave Russian Blue that had saved a little ginger cat. When the ginger cat grew up and became the king of the beasts, it, in turn, became Bucky’s protector. And that was also the reason for the incident.

Later, after Steve was discharged from the hospital, he made a realistic sculpture of a Maine Coon out of white marble and put it in the living room. It was a present for Elliot’s eight year old birthday, one that fulfilled his wish.

Once, Lionel came to have dinner with them. Before he left, he smiled and shook Steve’s hand and caught the blond off guard with a sentence.

“Rogers, all I needed was just a cat to kill you.”

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned in the tags, this story contains rape/non-con, and it's not pretty. If such content doesn't bother you, you can read the next two epilogues, if not, you can stop at the first epilogue which is chapter two.


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